#warnings: death

[rustic-space-fiddle]

Forgive me.

[iseethetvglow]

Death Becomes Her (1992) dir. Robert Zemeckis

[tawnysoup]

CW DEATH, DEAD BODY, STRANGULATION, BLOOD, IMPLIED SELF-HARM (in case my tags aren't enough!!!! stay safe)

(Above you, you hear Loop trying to take a breath.)

[k-labels]

↬ NEW RELEASE: 'taste of life' (2024) by ren !

TASTE OF LIFE. l. heeseung

THE TALE GOES...heeseung is invisible to everyone, robbed of recognition as people pass through and never acknowledge him. to live as a shadow who observes is hard—heeseung sinks into corners and simply wishes for a chance to be a part of something. but when you finally come to the biggest halloween party of the year and see him, he can’t help but be attached. 

pair -› lee heeseung x fem!reader | trope -› horror, literally no fluff | warn -› major character death, violence, stalking | REN SAYS.. first installment! also this is shit guys im so sorry I NEEDED TO GET THIS OUT ASAP ugh writing this much lowk killed me </3 | 3k words | library

---

Mediocre. Normal. Ordinary.

That’s exactly how you’d describe the house that stood before you, with your bags tightly held in both hands as you ascended the few stairs to the porch. It felt like any other house, and you’d even compare it to the old one you were in. 

The previous home was different in one major way—it added years of aging onto your parents somehow, as if something had sucked the life out of their minds. It drove them crazy to stay home, and you couldn’t help but be embarrassed every time they mumbled in public about going home. 

They looked crazy. You just had to droop your head and pretend you didn’t know them. 

Your parents’ eyes lit up when they entered through the door, with wood flooring and a color scheme that reflected on their preferences. It was almost identical to your other house, so why exactly did they choose to move to a home that was no different than the last? If anything, you were just glad they were starting to feel more comfortable within the new space. It felt breathable, and something about the old place you lived in felt dirty and plagued. 

It wasn’t much of a struggle as you began to unpack the bags of clothes and boxes of items you brought with you, considering how little you cared about accents and decorations. With furniture already there, your room felt akin to your other one, but something was off. You tried to move the desk over to the window to gauge the effectiveness of the natural lighting, and when your curtains gave way to slightly clouded rays of sunlight in your room, you hummed with some satisfaction. Good enough. 

As Halloween came around, you understood how much everyone in the local town loved to celebrate. Houses on your way to school were filled with webs, lights, and jack-o-lanterns, and it made you believe that the pumpkin farm on the outskirts of town had a smart business model. On top of having an abundance of fall flavored desserts, the Yang family held the biggest party of the year, seeing as their son went to the same high school of yours. 

You had only heard whispers of the annual Yang Halloween party, rumored to be the best party of all time, was something you were looking forward to every year, even anticipating the post-celebration news to hit you from the town over. 

The day neared, and you got more and more excited to finally get to know people ever since you arrived in town. People knew of you as the new girl, but no one reached out, all too consumed in their own cliques to introduce themselves to you. 

—

“Taste,” you told the man waiting outside. “The password is ‘taste.’ “

The windows were tinted in red as moonlight streamed through one side of the building. The rest of the house was dark, with only flashing orange, purple, and green lights strung carefully to add to the mysterious ambience. Music blasted from the speakers and shelves were lined with decorations, ones that you were careful to avoid knocking over as you slid your way between crowds. There seemed to be never ending snacks, as people with tattered black cloaks always managed to keep the drinks filled and the rows neat. 

It was obvious that the family knew what they were doing when it came to throwing parties—you hadn’t seen one person without a smile on their face. The festivities like horror rooms and games were all through-out the floor, and there was always something for everyone to do. 

You fell into conversation with a few people, cutting it short as you excused yourself to the restroom. Down the same hall was a door that was left ajar, and you went to shut it before returning to the boy who you just met. 

“Hi.” 

You jumped back, eyes darting around as you searched for someone to match the sudden voice, and you heard a small curse in the same direction. Your feet were frozen as you only looked around, your hand still on the knob of the empty restroom as you hoped someone would come to break you out of your stupor.

There was nothing, you promised yourself, and the door shut with a click. Still, your gut swirled with fear as you slowly turned, anxiously rubbing the goosebumps on your skin.

“You can hear me, huh?” 

You knew the sound was coming to your left, where the flashing lights were nowhere to be found. All you had was the phone you fished out of your back pocket before you saw a flash of something pale. You immediately turned, trying to find it once more. 

You could’ve sworn there was something. 

“Hello?” You probably looked insane to any bystander, calling out to the dark when you swore you saw something nearby. 

To both your surprise and horror, someone floats through the closet door, his limbs passing through as a grin makes his way onto his features. 

You’d think the ghost in front of you was attractive, if it wasn’t for the fact that you were experiencing something supernatural for the first time. 

Bile rose in your throat as you became disoriented looking at the figure. With a yelp that caught confused stares from only a few people nearby, you scurried out of the house, bumping into bodies as the door grew closer and closer. 

Like a bubble about to burst, the house feels stuffy and humid until you open the large doors, swallowing the cold air of the night like a lifeline. Your head spins with confusion, and you can’t seem to understand what you just saw until he seeps through the wall once more. 

“I’m sorry if I scared you.” You yelp at the sound of his voice, taking a few steps back as you look anywhere but his sullen face. 

The sound of your heart won triumph over anything else as you kept trying to make space between you and the creature in front of you. When he begins to glide closer, you take it as your sign to grab your small clutch and begin a brisk walk back home, no matter how dark.

“My name is Heeseung. No one’s ever seen me,” he explains, easily drifting behind you. 

“Get the fuck away from me, Heeseung.” Your voice sounded shaky as the wind rushes past your ears. You felt hopeless, unable to hear his footsteps or gauge where he could be. 

He’s right next to you, speaking directly to your profile all of a sudden. “Please, no one’s recognized me since I died. Please, you have to help me.”

The change in proximity has you jumping from being frightened, and you try to cover your ears to block out his voice. 

The worst part of it all was that Heeseung could touch you. You felt the cold of his fingertips without the pressure of his mortality in his fingertips. Effortlessly drifting next to you, he worked to pry your fingers from your ears as a plea for you to hear him out.

“I don’t care. Leave me alone.” You began speeding up, seeing your house in sight and the ghost beginning to fall back in his misery. You didn’t care about it, only wanting to go home and pretend everything was a bad dream. While the ghost wasn’t ugly by any means, the supernatural facet of his identity kept you up as you feared the creature outside your window at any moment. 

What you didn’t know was that your gut feeling was right–Heeseung wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted. 

—

You didn’t know what was louder–Heeseung’s voice in your ear, or the thudding of your heartbeat. 

Your scream echoed around the empty house when he appeared for the second time, your heart dropping as the lack of sleep you got from the night before made you even more on edge now. Everytime you looked down a corridor, shivers racked your body and you were unable to go anywhere without a flashlight. You swore you saw him in the corner of the room, and if not–something was horribly wrong with you. 

There he was again, staying by the edge. “Please, get away from me, I can’t give you what you want, Heeseung.” You tried to keep your voice as steady as possible, as if you weren’t shaking from fear that you’d be joined by an intruder everytime you turned the corner.

You couldn’t shower or change without wanting to tear your hair out, and there was no way to quell the anxiety after you saw him stick an arm through your home. 

There was nothing you could do. No one who you could go to about this. You were truly all alone. 

Class felt like a blur with an ache in your head and an emptiness in your stomach. It was exhausting for you to dart around the room, waiting for him to appear. 

He was waiting for something, you knew it. 

You felt on edge constantly, like you were going insane. Every small movement triggered some sort of reaction, so much so that your classmates began to notice and snicker. 

You felt like your parents–and you had no idea how to make it stop. 

—

It was the third day of your sleepless torment. Your parents often left you alone according to their new work schedules, and you were still stuck having to hide from the apparition until you left for school. He looked torn apart, too, but you couldn’t understand why he couldn’t give you space. It got so bad to the point where you heard whispers of him in every corridor. You couldn’t stand it anymore, and your bloodshot eyes and scratched arms were a sign that something had been wrong ever since Halloween. 

There was only one person you could tell about this, and you didn’t even notice how bad your fingers had been when you went to pick at the dry skin once more. 

“Jungwon,” you mumbled as you passed him. He turned around, immediately recognizing you as someone he didn’t know much about. 

“Is everything okay?” He asked, concern knitting his eyebrows as you asked for him to talk with you outside. 

Something was off that day. The clouds were gray, dipped with unease. The sky was bathed in dread, and Jungwon could tell something was wrong by the way you couldn’t find the sun no matter where you looked. 

“What’s wrong, ____? You’ve been looking horrible ever since Halloween.” You flinched at the word, eyes stinging with tears as you were pushed back into thinking about that night. You never should’ve worn your black dress or added some cute cat ears. You never should’ve left the house. 

“There’s something in your house, Jungwon,” you pleaded, your gaze frantically searching for any sign that Heeseung followed you. “It’s like a spirit, something happened and it won’t—“ your words came to an abrupt halt when you heard a chuckle from the boy in front of you. 

A laugh tore through as Jungwon crossed his arms and looked at you with a pitiful grin. “You’re funny. Good prank, though,” he smiles, about to turn. 

You had no idea what came over you when you went to grab his arm. Jungwon was practically a stranger to you, but one more sleepless night without a cure would’ve made you go insane if he kept following you. You needed to get rid of Heeseung. 

“No!” Your voice rang out louder than anticipated, and the sudden shout made you wince, still holding onto Jungwon’s arm. “You don’t get it, something’s following me around, he keeps talking to me and no one else can see him—“ 

The boy yanked himself out of your grip, suddenly frustrated, and you feared the worst; Yang Jungwon would tell the whole school that you were crazy. 

“Please, Jungwon—” you tried once more, “he’s real—he’s everywhere and I can’t get rid of him—it was because of your party,” at this point, your eyes were filled with tears as you begged your only hope from leaving. “You have to help me—“ 

“I don’t have to do anything for you, ____.” He sneered, growing impatient. “I don’t know who put you up to this whole prank, but you need to stay away from me.” He spun around, paying you no attention as you crumbled to a heap on the ground and sobbed hopelessly on the pavement. 

The sky was darker than ever, and it was still afternoon.

Even as you walked down the empty dirt roads to your house, you couldn’t help but hear Heeseung’s voice ring in your ears. As you started running to push the sound out and replace it with your heavy breathing, your eyes began to shut with exhaustion. Slowing to an eventual stop in front of your house, you heaved, gasping for air that felt like it was escaping your lungs any moment as you held into the porch railing

“You’re home. What took you so long?” 

Your vision was blurring slightly in the corners, and the corners of your eyes felt puffy. You were slipping out of consciousness, but you remembered that voice anywhere. “Get away from me, please.” 

Heeseung pursed his lips, feeling slightly bad for the state that you were in. “I told you, I can help you.”

When you saw his pale shoes in front of you, your body reacted instantly, scrambling back to create some distance. You hadn’t registered that a wooden splinter from the floor cut into your palm until Heeseung saw the blood seep into the planks underneath you. The porch made no sound under his quick footsteps, and it only instilled more frustration at his lack of perceptibility. His sudden approach left you frightened as you waved a hand in the air, unable to feel the wound from the state of your body. “Go away, Heeseung!” 

He frowned angrily. “Let me help.” He kneeled next to you and reached out for your wound before you yanked your hand back, stumbling as you got back up and tried to make your way to the entrance.

“Please, stop,” you cried, taking two steps towards the railing before your legs gave out. Heeseung tried to reach out for you again. But you pushed away his hand, the slap of the force making no sound. It was almost humorous how much your torture was one sided, but you had no more energy left to defend yourself.

Heeseung went to grab your wrist, worry etched in his features as your state deteriorated in front of him. You kicked his leg, hot tears staging your cheeks as you sobbed for him to leave you alone, but the more carelessly you moved, the more the large splinter dug into your hand. He begged for you to stop–to let him help you before anything bad happened, but you couldn’t understand through the sound of your own hysterics. 

A mix of going days without sleeping, paired with your lack of appetite and delirium left you defenseless no matter how much you tried. You struggled against the ghost of Heeseung’s grip as he tried to stop you from hurting yourself even further. You felt bile in your throat when he was close, and you found the opportunity to yank your arm out of his grip. You underestimated the force, however, and your hand hit the wood behind you. Momentarily distracted, you focused on the blooming pain of the impact and the slowly trailing blood. It was out of body how you couldn’t process the sensation of your fingers tracing the messy wound, and you became a slave to your exhaustion as the boy came back.

You fought against him weakly, the blood from your wound becoming a larger problem the more you used your hands to do anything. 

“You don’t get it!” He yelled, tears of his own forming from the anger of having to go against you. 

Why couldn’t you just stop? Why did you keep pushing him away? You were selfish, trying to ignore him as if you didn’t understand his predicament. You were the only one who could’ve seen him, and he was the only one who saw you in return. “Even Jungwon doesn’t believe you,” he mumbled bitterly, seeing you slowly slip in and out. “You wouldn’t even help me, ____. It’s all your fault.” He talked as if you could hear him, the life in your eyes gone by the time he wiped his tears and finally looked at you, with your wrist going limp in his hold. 

“I don’t get it.” He wept angrily, before getting up and leaving you there on the porch steps in a heap. 

Heeseung turned to glance at you again, his semblance of a heart in pain from how things had to end up. “You seemed so nice–so promising. Jungwon swore we could've been friends.”

–

You didn’t know if it was possible to kill a ghost twice. After all, your death turned you into a floating apparition of yourself, as you watched your parents mourn their attempts to shield you from their own fate. Being a ghost wasn’t so horrible, but Heeseung was right; it was lonely. 

When a voice calls your name apologetically from where you sit on your rooftop, your gaze settles on him with fury, and the moment you rush over to him and your fingers close around his wrist, you knew that you wouldn’t stop until you properly got rid of Lee Heeseung.

No matter how long it took.

--

i swear the rest of them will be better. and shorter.

zyvlxqht firstclassjaylee @riribelle @jaylajakey @minfolio @strxwbloody @r1kification @strayy-kidz @mimismenu @jwonistic @haechsworld @machambrx @ririsreverie @hollxe1 @wonnina @heeseungismymanz @cyjhhyj @eunimaybe

[sillysiluriforme]

he got the munchies <3

context under show more

[rystiel]

au where ford gets over himself when he gets to gravity falls and reaches out to stan sooner

stan thinks ford still doesn’t want him around and is gonna kick him out the moment he doesn’t need his help anymore ahaha. but like also they’re so sillayyyy

(plus a part 2 & part 3)

[violent138]

Damian: "Red Hood has a pretty severe concussion. What do I do?"

Tim: "Extraction's still ten minutes out, just keep him talking."

Damian, urgently pressing the comm: "I don't want to talk to him, he's even more insufferable than usual."

Jason, lying on the ground, eyes closed: "That's funny Junior, because head trauma's the only thing that makes you bearable."

Damian, to Tim: "I'm leaving. It won't be the first time we've had a closed casket."

Tim, groaning disgustedly: "Robin--ugh, seriously, just stay there and keep him awake."

Damian, seething even more when he sees Jason's smirk: "Fine."

Jason, cracking open one eye: "Aww, are you concerned about me?"

Damian: "Shut up. The only thing I'm concerned about is our family's reputation after your public wipeout on that stupid motorcycle."

Jason:

Damian: "Are you still awake?" *kicks him* "Todd?"

Jason, grinning: "You said our family."

Damian, furious: "I didn't. You've lost more brain cells than you could afford."

Jason: "Wait 'till Tim hears, I think he'll want a group hug. Bruce is probably going to get emotionally constipated. Dickie would probably cry--"

Damian, panicking as he hears the Batmobile get closer: "Stop. Do not tell him--"

Jason: "You better erase every single fucking video of me crashing then."

Damian: "You have a deal."

[and-this-of-all-my-hopes]

Sometimes you just are trying to live out your day and then your brain thinks:

What if in the opening titles of Season 3 Aziraphale and Crowley aren’t walking together anymore.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Look what we've become.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[egophiliac]

don't think I'm not still deep in the episode 7 brainrot. because OH BOY AM I

(also one more extremely, obnoxiously self-referential thing, I'm -- I'm so sorry)

[kflixnet]

Check out our member Zanna's fic!!

BURNT PROMISES, SECOND CHANCES : a wonwoo atla au.

genre. avatar the last airbender au. arranged marriage au. slow burn. no communication istg. mutual pining. angst. fluff. fire lord wonwoo. nobleman's daughter/fire lady/briefly assassin reader. ft. advisor!jeonghan & brother!mingyu. warnings. wonwoo is frustratingly bad at anything social. reader is neglected. reader is depressed. wonwoo is overworked ngl. dragons. swords. (reckless) firebending. brief brief mention of child abuse. burns from firebending. blood. assassination lol. wonwoo is shirtless like... 3 times BCUZ AXE WANTED IT OKAY?? kissing. pairing. wonwoo x fem!reader. wc. 14.5k (i am so insane and i almost died 15 times writing this.) a/n. this fic is my longest ever fic and tbh idk if i'm ever gonna write a fic this long for a long time. i used to not be able to write more than 3k and then suddenly BOOM 14.5K OUT OF NOWHERE?? this is definitely a fic i'll remember for a long long time, and i have to say i'm extremely proud of it. fandom cross-overs have always been one of my absolute favorite things to write, and this definitely filled a little spot in my heart that i didn't know needed to be filled w a svt atla au. special thanks to @blue-jisungs who has hands down been the most helpful person in me being able to complete this fic-- i seriously wouldn't have finished it without you </3, and thank you to @wheeboo for proofreading this beast for me <3 i love you both very much :D

Wonwoo stood at the edge of the coffin, blank eyes staring down at the body that lay inside it. The news had been shocking to the whole Fire Nation. As far as anyone knew, the late Fire Lord had been healthy and suspected to rule for several more decades, yet here he lay, lifeless and cold in the wooden box. Wonwoo felt neither sadness nor grief. His father had always been a cold man who had shown little attention to his children.

Mingyu, Wonwoo’s younger brother, had become a ship general the year prior, and was still at sea, unable to return in time for the funeral or his brother’s suddenly announced coronation. Though, hearing the news of his father’s passing had started him back in the direction of home, it would take him several months or more to arrive still. He would stay for a month or two before returning to his diplomatic travels to the Earth Kingdom.

Wonwoo had, of course, been aware from a young age that he would one day become the Fire Lord. It was destined for him as the eldest son, and he had spent his entire life leading up to now preparing for it. His training had been twice as intense as Mingyu’s growing up, and while he had sometimes seen it as unfair during his teen years, he quickly grew to understand the burden he must bear as the next in line to the throne.

He had responsibilities that Mingyu did not. He was not only expected to attend extra fire bending lessons, but he was required to be well-versed and knowledgeable in political matters, royal etiquette, local affairs, military management, and public speaking. On paper, he had all the qualifications necessary to be a responsible and wise leader, though it was Wonwoo’s own doubts and uncertainties that led to the uneasy feeling in his stomach at the thought of the power.

His gaze wandered a little, up to the throne surrounded by crimson flames, once occupied by his father, now empty. Soon, he would be the one seated there. There was a sense of pride that flickered in his eyes as he took in the sight. He had always been determined to become a leader that the nation could trust. He had always assumed he would have a little more time to prepare, though.

There were many things that still felt improper about his coronation in two days. For as long as the position of Fire Lord had been in place, it was customary that the lord be already wed before taking the throne. And, if he happened to already have children to secure the family line, even better. 

Wonwoo had neither.

He had barely ever thought about women or love, having been too focused on his studies. But now, the task of finding a wife as quickly as possible was plaguing his mind among the other sudden changes. 

“Your Highness?” 

Wonwoo turned at the sound of the voice echoing in the empty throne room. It belonged to Jeonghan, Wonwoo’s advisor and long-time friend. Jeonghan was one of the few people that maintained Wonwoo’s absolute unwavering trust, something that not even Mingyu could say he possessed.

“I’ve compiled a list of eligible young ladies that would be suitable to be your bride. Given the pressure from the public, there isn’t much time for you to spend much time with them, but if any of them pique your interest, you could at least meet them before the wedding.” He explained, handing over a scroll to Wonwoo. 

Upon unravelling it, Wonwoo scanned a long list of names, each clearly stating who the woman's father was and what connections she had. Below each name was a brief description of background, and important or notable skill sets and events were specifically stated. 

“You’ve put stars next to some names.” Wonwoo noted, furrowing his eyebrows as he read further down the list.

“The stars are to separate the ladies whose fathers have already expressed their approval of their daughters marrying you. I didn’t star the ones who seemed greedy for the throne or possibly had ulterior motives, I might add. I would suggest picking from them if no one particular interests you.” Jeonghan clarified, pointing to a couple of the starred names, “These young ladies are well beloved by the public for their beauty and skills. Some are excellent firebenders, others have accomplishments in different areas.”

“How long do I have to choose?”

“About 4 days… 6 at most. Though, I’m sure the wedding planners and the lady’s family would both be appreciative of extra time to prepare for the ceremony. If you leave it to the last minute, they’ll have to scramble to get everything ready in less than 48 hours.”

Wonwoo nodded, “I’ll decide by this evening and give you my selection. Please set up a meeting with her family for Thursday. If the wedding is on Sunday, I’d like to have at least met her once before then. Thank you for the list, it makes the process a little easier.” He said sternly.

Jeonghan laughed and threw an arm around his shoulder, “Why so gloomy? You’re about to become the Fire Lord! And you get to choose among the most beautiful young ladies of the Fire Nation to be your wife! Brighten up a bit!”

“Despite the celebrations, I’m not feeling particularly cheerful about any of it. I’m juggling the coronation, picking a wife, the wedding, keeping track of Mingyu’s route back from the Earth Kingdom, electing a new army recruit, firing some of the higher ranking generals that only survived because of bribes with my father, and tending to the public’s complaints about the reconstruction on the East side of the city. My brain feels like it’s about to explode.” Wonwoo sighed.

“For this week until your wedding, focus on the first two of those tasks. The coronation will go smoothly even if you don’t write the speech ahead of time. You’ve prepared for many years for this. The rest can wait a little, but you can’t show up to your wedding without first choosing who you are marrying, so please inform me of who you choose as soon as possible.” Jeonghan patted his shoulder reassuringly. 

Wonwoo nodded, taking one last look at the long list of potential wives before rolling the scroll back up, “You’re right. I’ll make sure to give the time sensitive tasks my full attention.”

“Would you like to join me for some tea?” Jeonghan suggested, “I’d like to take one more chance to address you as Prince Wonwoo before your change in title. Or should I start calling you Fire Lord Wonwoo already?” They both laughed at Jeonghan’s teasing, and Wonwoo agreed to the offer for tea. He was glad that amongst all the change, Jeonghan remained a constant steady fixture of his life.

Wonwoo kept his word and picked out a bride from the list before his coronation. He trusted Jeonghan and his judgement on who were the best potential wives, and so he picked from among the starred candidates. After comparing descriptions and seeing some portraits, he finally landed on his final choice.

His crowning as Fire Lord took place on Wednesday. The ceremony went by surprisingly quickly, which relieved him of some of the stress he carried. The Fire Lord headpiece felt heavy and unstable on top of his head, and though he had made it through the coronation, he still felt uneasy. Was he really qualified to take on such an important role?

Wonwoo didn’t get much sleep Wednesday night. Shuffling in the corridors and disturbance of the long red curtains in his bedroom kept him awake most of the night. He was sure it was just all the sudden changes getting to his brain and keeping him up, but the anxious feeling that he couldn’t shake off almost tormented him.

He put on one of his best robes to visit his soon-to-be bride the next morning. The walk to the family’s house was short as they were among the nobility of the Fire Nation and lived within 20 minutes of the royal palace, in the heart of Caldera City. Wonwoo had done some additional research on the lady he had picked with the help of Jeonghan. Since he wasn’t able to pick a bride the traditional way, he wanted to try to lessen the chance of unhappiness in the marriage by trying to pick someone with qualities he respected, which is how he landed on you. 

Y/n L/n: the daughter of a high-ranking government official who worked in Ancient Studies and the Preservation of Fire Nation Culture. Wonwoo had heard that your father was quite the fire-bending expert, though it was said that you did not possess the gift. You were renowned for your beauty and intelligence, as well as a kind heart. 

If it was true that you fit the description, Wonwoo had high hopes that even if he didn’t fall in love, he would still be able to proudly say that you were his wife. He just hoped that you wouldn’t despise him. He didn’t have the best track record when it came to romance.

Being busy with his princely duties and preparing for the throne all his life, whenever he received any romantic gestures or subtle flirting from girls, they usually went right over his head. He didn’t have the slightest grasp on the concept of flirting or reciprocating emotions, and since it wasn’t something that came naturally to him as a teen, he always assumed that he would learn later in life. He had always expected there to be plenty of years for him to find a wife when he felt ready. He certainly hadn’t bet on being rushed into it when he was barely 22. 

But this was the way things had panned out, and Wonwoo had no choice but to face it head on. He was the Fire Lord now. There was no room for nervousness.

He left his guards by the gate of the house, strolling through the pleasant front gardens by himself. There was a stone pathway that led to the front of the house. He took his time getting there, stopping to smell the flowers that had been planted on either side. His real intention of getting to the door as slowly as possible was his quickly growing nerves in the pit of his stomach, but he masked it well.

As soon as he knocked on the door (Wonwoo swore even before he opened the door), it was opened by family servants. They immediately bowed at him and welcomed him inside, leading him towards a large sitting room where the family was waiting for him.

His eyes immediately fell on you, and without even knowing, his lips upturned into a small smile. The portrait he had been given of you really didn’t do you any justice. You were infinitely better in person, he thought. He introduced himself and took a seat, preparing for the conversation that would unfold in the next hour or more. 

He could tell that you were nervous as you talked. You fiddled with your fingers in your lap each time you had to answer a question Wonwoo or your father posed, and for some reason, it made Wonwoo feel more at ease. He was glad he wasn’t the only one feeling anxious over this first meeting, though he was sure no one would be able to tell. He had perfected his public speaking at the age of twelve.

The basic introductions and formalities were coming to an end after almost an hour of speaking. Wonwoo had clarified all the expectations that would come of being a Fire Lady and your father seemed overjoyed that Wonwoo was taking interest in his daughter.

“It seems this conversation is dying down a little. Would you mind if I talked with Y/n alone? Perhaps we could take a walk around the garden?” Wonwoo asked gently and was met with enthusiasm from both your parents.

“Of course! Take as long as you want with her.”

You led the way out to the back garden which Wonwoo found to be even more charming than the front garden. There were twice as many flowers, as well as a stone fountain in the centre of the grounds. What Wonwoo found most pleasing was the small turtle duck pond nestled by a tree. He made his way over to it with you.

“I hope you’re not… opposed to this marriage?” Wonwoo started tentatively, first addressing his biggest fear.

Thankfully, you smiled and shook your head, “I would be a fool to be opposed to a marriage to the Fire Lord.”

“But, are you not disappointed?” He asked.

Again, you shook your head, “You must be referring to the fact that we are not marrying for love? Of course I had always hoped that my marriage would contain mutual love and respect… who knows, maybe it still can? I know I will be making my parents happy with this, and I am flattered that I, of all the Fire Nation, seemed to catch your attention. I wouldn’t have accepted this marriage if I hadn’t considered thoroughly all that it would entail. I’m ready to commit to being your wife, though I am not sure why you sought out me.” 

Wonwoo smiled, “You don’t seem to give yourself enough credit. Your list of accomplishments was longer than any of the other ladies.”

“My ‘list’?” You questioned, digging into your pocket to pull out a small piece of wrapped up fabric.

“Yes,” Wonwoo laughed softly, “Given the rush for this marriage, I was given a list of ladies to pick from to make it easier.”

You unfolded the piece of fabric, revealing some small pieces of bread, and crouched down to toss one piece into the water. A baby turtle duck swam up to eat it immediately, the others following along, hoping to get a piece of the bread too. Wonwoo smiled again, watching you feed the turtle ducks with care. He hoped you would like the turtle duck pond at the palace as well. 

“What accomplishments were on that list… If I may ask?” You were curious. You didn’t view your life as particularly grand or accomplished. You had spent most of your childhood sheltered and started school late.

“You graduated top of your class from one of the most prestigious schools in the nation. I heard you took up a variety of extra classes beyond the basics, including painting and even army history despite not being able to firebend. Your list of charity work was particularly long. If I remember correctly… over ten different organizations are in your name?” 

“I’m glad they included that, at least. It might be one of the only things I’m actually good at.” You mumbled, and Wonwoo furrowed his eyebrows.

You stood up again to face him, “Is it true that you own a dragon?” 

Wonwoo was partially taken aback by your question, but he answered it nonetheless, “Yes. Part of my firebending training was studying the behaviours of Huoyan. We learned together. She was just a baby when I got her. I owe my firebending skills more so to her than any of my past masters.”

You watched Wonwoo talk about his dragon, intent on the way his eyes— which had been dull and tired looking all during his visit— seemed to brighten and sparkle as soon as he started telling you about Huoyan. You had always been interested in animals, particularly Fire Nation ones. You took close care of the turtle ducks, but because you couldn’t firebend, you were never allowed to own a dragon.

“She sounds incredible. If you wouldn’t mind…” You started, your cheeks flushing halfway through. You weren’t sure if what you were about to ask was entirely appropriate— you could be majorly overstepping. The way Wonwoo was waiting expectantly pushed you to complete it, though. “Would you be so kind as to introduce me to her once I move into the palace?” 

Wonwoo graced you with a smile back, “Of course. Once you move into the palace I’ll be sure to introduce you to her. Perhaps I could even take you for a ride on her?” Wonwoo suggested, and was met with your ready agreement. You asked again if you really had his word to complete the request. You wouldn’t rest until you were sure of his sincerity. You grinned when he promised— within the first week of being at the palace, in fact, you would be well acquainted with his dragon. 

Wonwoo had other meetings for the day, so he had to leave shortly after your discussion about dragons. The next time you would see him, he would be your husband. You wondered how living with him would be. Would it feel awkward and cold like your conversation in the house or would it feel warm and honest like the brief discussion about dragons?

You hoped it would be the latter, but you soon found that your hope only led to disappointment.

Your wedding to Wonwoo was a very public affair. All the nobles and half of the middle class of the Fire Nation were invited to the ceremony. While you weren’t unused to public events from growing up in the nobility, the massive number of people attending a royal event as prestigious as a wedding was definitely foreign to you. You used to be part of the crowd and only very rarely the subject of attention. Given that you were becoming the Fire Lady, you would have to get used to the attention quickly.

There was no chance to talk to Wonwoo before the ceremony, despite getting ready at the palace. The servants helped you with your wedding garments, which were fancier than anything you had ever put on before. The gold elements of the luxurious silk robe were hand-sewn on and glimmered when the light shone on them. They depicted flames of gold and red, and even the red thread seemed to shine brightly. The dress was mostly made up of a rich dark red material which was lightweight but clearly much higher quality than anything you could buy at a market. 

The maids applied gold shimmer to your eyes as well as a dark red lip, as was traditional of the wife of the Fire Lord. The last piece of your outfit was an elegant headpiece. It, too, was gold and was pinned uncomfortably tight into your hair to keep from slipping. 

You looked in the mirror one last time before the ceremony, turning your face to the side to view every angle with scrutiny. These were your last few minutes as just the daughter of nobility. Within half an hour, you would be the new wife of Fire Lord Wonwoo, ruler of the Fire Nation.

As soon as you stepped into the view of the public, there were deafening cheers. More than half the Fire Nation was in attendance, it seemed. Such a cause for celebration hadn’t happened in years. 

The public had always been nosy about the personal lives of the royal family. There were groups of people who loved to romanticise it and believed that every royal wedding only came about when a son or daughter of the royal family had fallen into the deepest of love. 

There were people with a bit more sense, thankfully. They still wished you and Wonwoo to have the happiest marriage possible, but their judgement wasn’t clouded with the unrealistic idea that royals had the luxury of marrying for love. 

You could only hope that Wonwoo would fall in love with you. You believed yourself capable of loving him if you were sure he loved you back. Until you were sure, though, you took everything with healthy apprehension. You weren’t going to allow your mind to be clouded with the softness and warmth that you had felt from him during your walk in the garden. Your mother had always told you that you couldn’t judge a person by how they acted when they were trying to make a good first impression. You needed to watch and silently observe— and only then would you know the true nature of your husband.

This is why your eyes stayed firmly on Wonwoo throughout the ceremony and afterparty. The public thought you were enamoured with him, oblivious to the fact that you had barely spent more than two hours in his presence. You were eager for the wedding to finally be over, hoping in your mind that Wonwoo would invite you to meet Huoyan after.

He did not, though. Instead, he bowed to you and said he had some things to attend to before retreating back to his chambers, letting the servants show you to your new room. You were disheartened when you realized it was almost on the opposite side of the palace from Wonwoo’s. What kind of married couple slept so far apart? Even the justification of this being an arranged political marriage didn’t constitute that level of separation. 

You sat down on the edge of the bed, contemplating the issue. Your brain was screaming to bring it up with Wonwoo. How were you supposed to get close to him when you were separated during the day and during the night? He was your husband. There was no reason why you couldn’t bring it up with him. 

But what if he wanted to be separate from you? You thought about the possibilities for minutes before finally dismissing it. You felt nervous at the thought of asking him about it first. You didn’t have the courage to speak to him that freely yet— you were sure you would sound entitled if you did. 

You hoped that the situation was just a result of how the royal palace worked, and not because Wonwoo had no wish to get to know you more. Despite growing up a nobel, you had never set foot inside the royal palace and were ignorant to its inner workings. But there was still time to learn.

You spent the next 2 weeks familiarizing yourself with the palace and your responsibilities as Fire Lady. There weren’t many— especially compared to the Fire Lord’s responsibilities— but it was enough to keep you busy for a few hours of the day. They were mostly social matters, enriching yourself with the people of the nation, and listening to their concerns.

You quite liked the work you were given. You had always excelled at finding solutions to tricky problems, and it stimulated your brain much more than at home. The times you were working were the best part of your day. When you were left on your own in the palace, you succumbed to boredom. It was big and empty inside— the only warmth in the place coming from the elaborate flames used as decoration. It didn’t feel like home to you, so you spent most of your day by the turtle duck pond in the gardens. Though you longed for some human interaction, the turtle ducks at least kept you company.

One thing continued to bother you, though.

You barely saw Wonwoo at all.

Since your wedding, you had only had two other conversations with him in 2 weeks, each of which only lasted for a few minutes. Wonwoo woke up earlier than you did and didn’t wait for you to come down to eat breakfast to start on his tasks as Fire Lord for the day. He would often go on overnight trips without informing you, which made you feel almost invisible to him. 

Whenever you crossed paths with him inside the palace, he was very clearly on his way to somewhere important and couldn’t spare any time for you. You had started to try to initiate conversations with him in hopes that a little effort would break the ice between you two— just simple things like asking about his work or how his day had been. He responded gently, but it was very clear in his tone that he had no desire to continue talking to you. It had been unsuccessful so far, as each conversation ended abruptly when one of the servants called for Wonwoo’s attention or he excused himself from your presence. 

You often saw him talking to his advisor: Jeonghan. He seemed to follow your husband around everyday with a huge pile of scrolls. You assumed they were the daily tasks of the Fire Lord.

You were the last person to interrupt someone when they were so clearly busy working, so you kept to yourself as much as you could. Despite your loneliness and constant boredom, time seemed to pass quickly. April fourteenth marked six months post the wedding. By this time, it was quite usual for you to not even see Wonwoo at the palace for weeks at a time. 

You didn’t ask for much. You were never a greedy or dependent person. But the lack of attention given from Wonwoo had started to affect you more than you realized. You used to be social and bright, filled with energy to tend to people’s issues or helping animals. Now, you barely even went out to the market anymore. 

You had become rather dull and cold to Wonwoo whenever you saw him, hoping that he might pick up on your change of demeanour and fix something in his attitude, but he seemed as oblivious as ever. In your head, you had absolutely resigned to the fact that your husband did not care for you at all, and that the rest of your marriage would carry on in this sad lonely state. He still slept in his room that was on the other side of the palace from you. He still kept busy with duties all day long. He still woke up earlier than you and turned in early (you had started to think that he was doing this to purposefully avoid you). You felt hopeless and your loneliness brought with it depression.

You even felt a little betrayed by him. He had made several promises to your father that first meeting, one of which was that you would be sure to be happy and content at the palace. He couldn’t have been more wrong on that. 

Your brain also kept going back to his later promise that he made to you in the garden— that you would get to meet Huoyan as soon as you moved in. All these months, you had clung in vain to that side of Wonwoo in the garden. If he was truly like that to you everyday, you were sure you would’ve fallen deeply in love with him.

But now you knew for certain that it was all just an act. You had been wrong about Wonwoo all this time. He had no intention of getting to know you. The warmth you had once felt from him was truly a one-time thing. You didn’t expect that he would ever showcase that sincerity to you ever again.

Over time, you slowly lost interest in making an effort, and retreated further into your new life of solitude. There was a lot you could do in your room, big open space secluded from the rest of the palace. With a quick trip to the palace armoury one late night, you found yourself a new hobby.

If you had done this right after your wedding, you would’ve made sure to ask Wonwoo about it first; another precaution in hopes of being a “good wife” and “one that he could grow to love”. Having tried everything you possibly could think of and failing at that task, though, you didn’t care if he minded or not. The servants all took your orders as the Fire Lady without any questioning, and you quickly learned to use your position of power to keep yourself entertained enough to not entirely lose your mind stuck doing nothing for months.

And so, with two borrowed long swords from Wonwoo’s collection, one sharp dagger, fifteen ancient martial arts scrolls and five sword-fighting ones, you dedicated yourself to the art of self defense and battle. If you were careful enough, Wonwoo would hear nothing about this.

Wonwoo had been anticipating Mingyu’s arrival back home for weeks. It was unsurprising that he had taken twice the expected amount of time to get back home than any other general would have. Mingyu’s skills at directing a fleet of ships were… questionable. No one could strip him of his position, though. His title as prince overruled any judgement from any of his crew.

“Wonwoo! How have you- Ow!” 

Wonwoo looked up from the map he was studying, quick enough to catch Mingyu hop forward in pain, clutching his foot from where he had bumped it against the edge of a table. Wonwoo smiled. He had a lot of affection for his younger brother, no matter how incompetent he was sometimes. And though he would never admit it, he had missed him while he had been gone for a year.

“I’ve been well. It’s still the same here. Quiet. Especially when you’re away.” Wonwoo commented, rolling up the map and setting it aside.

“It’s still the same? Father died, you became Fire Lord, and you got yourself a wife, yet it’s still the same?!” Mingyu asked incredulously. Wonwoo could only nod, stepping down from the throne to walk with Mingyu.

“How is married life?” Mingyu asked once the two were walking out of the throne room.

Wonwoo shrugged, “I thought it would be different from being single, but it barely is. I still spend most of my time in solitude.” 

“Don’t you talk to her?” 

Wonwoo paused before answering, “I don’t see her much. We both seem to be rather busy.”

“Do you at least make an effort to talk to her when you can? You can’t be that busy. No matter how many tasks you had, I know you still drink tea with Jeonghan every day.” Mingyu pointed out, disappointed in his brother’s excuses. “I know you were always hopeless when it comes to this, but you must have considered how lonely she must feel in solitary in this massive palace, right?” Mingyu studied Wonwoo’s face carefully, sighing when he caught the guilty look in his eyes which he had hoped would not appear.

“So let me get this straight,” He took a breath, “You married one of the prettiest ladies in all of the Fire Nation, only to never talk to her and then wonder why married life is so quiet?” 

Wonwoo admitted to it in a hesitant mutter, causing Mingyu to groan.

“God, you’re stupider than I thought! At this rate, she’ll want to break off the marriage, Wonwoo. Don’t you see that she has the power to ruin your reputation as Fire Lord if she chooses? If you don’t remedy this, she could tell the entire Fire Nation that their beloved Fire Lord is a cold and cruel man with no affection for his wife, despite her efforts to get closer to him.” Mingyu stated clearly.

Wonwoo frowned. He had never thought of that possibility before. “It’s been… almost a year since our wedding already.” Wonwoo realized, shocked at how fast the time had all gone. The days seemed to bleed into one another, and with his lack of sleep keeping up with daily tasks, you were often the last thing on his mind.

“Do you think it’s even possible to make it up to her now?”

“Well, yes, you have worsened your chances of fixing it by studiously ignoring her existence for 12 months, but you shouldn’t feel completely hopeless. If you put in the right amount of effort, she might come around.”

“What should a husband do to try to win the affection of his wife?” Wonwoo asked, feeling completely overwhelmed at the situation. 

“Send her flowers, do her favourite activities together, take her on dates, devote time to her! And for God’s sake, don’t forget your own wedding anniversary! You can’t expect her to care for you when you don’t give her any of your time.” Mingyu explained frustratedly. Among the two brothers, he was definitely the more experienced when it came to love. Unlike Wonwoo, he actually had time to date amongst his other commitments. 

Wonwoo felt a pit in his stomach, an uncomfortable lurch in his core that was screeching out all the mistakes he had made. He realized in an instant how truly awful he had been treating you without even knowing it. He had foolishly assumed that you, being of nobility already, would do fine on your own in the palace. Given the nature of the marriage, he hadn’t even considered your possible desire to get closer to him, or the stress that would come with being uprooted so abruptly, going from your own familiar living space to the deafening quiet of the royal palace. Now that he was aware of all of these errors on his part, he felt a strange crack in his heart; an ache that couldn’t be soothed without knowing that he could make you happy again.

He had made many mistakes— almost innumerable. As his brain raced, it only pulled more and more instances of your clear discomfort that he had never bothered to pay attention to before this moment. He thought back to every interaction he had with you over the months, and it was never more clear to him that you had only been comfortable around him during your first meeting together. The feelings that the dragon conversation had brought in both of you had never been repeated.

Wonwoo now knew what he needed to do. He was determined to get you back to the way you were smiling and laughing that first conversation. He needed to fulfil his promises— however late he was to that. And he had a hope that the key to setting everything to rights was sleeping on his back doorstep: Huoyan.

Your mental health had significantly improved since you had picked up your new hobby. It gave you a thrilling surge of excitement whenever you were able to pick up the two long swords from the box under your bed. It was more dangerous than anything you had ever been allowed to try as a nobleman’s daughter— yet, it was always something you had been interested in.

You liked delicate things well enough. Sewing and painting and dancing were all enjoyable hobbies, but they never truly excited you as much as dragons or firebending or sword fighting. You had grown up watching your father teach Fire Nation history and demonstrate some of the very first fire bending techniques; learned straight from the dragons. 

Tried as you did when you were a child, you could never seem to produce a single spark or flame. It disheartened you early on in life, and once that fantasy of adventure had been shut down, your father never saw the point in teaching you sword fighting. You had been disclosed to be a gentleman’s lady: one who sat still and looked pretty and smiled a lot. But now that you had the tools and authority, you weren’t one to let this chance to indulge your inner child go.

You quickly got in the habit of sneaking out to test your quickly improving skills in the real world. You used the training grounds in the middle of the night when no one would see you, and after a couple months, you felt confident enough to go even further. You found a list of active criminals in the Fire Nation and took it upon yourself to take them on.

Charity work had always been your favourite— helping people had always been your passion. It fuelled you like nothing else had, and each night that you snuck back into the palace having successfully taken down another threat was another night you slept soundly. 

It wasn’t long until the Fire Nation started to notice. A new hero taking out the nation’s top criminals— ones that not even the royal guard had been able to capture. They named you The Scarlet Shadow for your dark crimson and black robes and your proficiency in the art of stealth. Your smaller frame and stature helped you get around unseen. You used the shadows to your advantage, slipping in and out of them without being caught. 

It was incredible how much you learned without a dedicated master. You wished you could hire one, but you didn’t want to be found out by Wonwoo, so you kept everything as secretive as possible. You spent the entire day reading scrolls and practicing in the privacy of your room. Once the sun set and you had told the servants you were sleeping early yet again, you snuck out.

It was now the first week of October, and you were dreadfully reminded that your first wedding anniversary would come on the fourteenth of the month. The first six months had been some of the worst of your life— mercilessly having been ignored and made to feel insignificant by your own husband. But the latter six brought some of the best months of your life.

The freedom of The Scarlet Shadow completely disconnected you from your duties as the Fire Lady. It brought a freedom that you never had, and if this was how you would be spending the rest of your life in the palace, you would gladly accept it.

Your target for tonight— the fourth of October— was an infamous and nefarious man named Orin. He was known to capture children from homeless Fire Nation families with an excuse of paying taxes. He then sold them to the rich and corrupt as slaves. The abuse didn’t stop there, as many of them were malnourished, overworked, never paid, and even beaten. 

Your heart ached for the victims of the man. You had known about this situation for years, but was never able to do anything about it. Given his reputation, Orin would have probably taken one look at you before being determined to marry you. You could only wonder at what horrors his past wives had to go through. They had all run away from him as soon as possible. Some, less fortunate ones, had died trying.

You got dressed in your garments: a black and red robe that was easy to move and fight in. It was stealthy, and didn’t make any sound when you walked in it unlike the fancy bejewelled silk robes that you wore as Fire Lady. You sheathed the long swords and stuck the dagger safely in your shoe, ready to pull out and throw when you needed to. You pulled up the black cloth over your nose, shielding all but your eyes so that no one could identify you. 

And then, you jumped out the window.

It was a cold night: one of the first proper ones in October. Given the change of the season, more people were sleeping earlier. Most of the city was hushed and in their beds already, which made your task even easier. It was always more risky to navigate in the summertime when night festivals were held until morning.

Orin’s house (or mansion, that is) was on the East side of town. The man slept late, usually partying until the early hours of the morning. You wished you could get the job done while he was sleeping, but it would be too risky. If anyone found out that you weren’t at the palace, you would never hear the end of it from your personal servants and advisors. You grimaced, thinking what Wonwoo would think of this whole situation.

You weren’t sure why he was always on your mind. Everything you did came back to him, even though you still didn’t know him. You had always thought that the relationship between a husband and his wife should be intimate and companionable. You wanted to be able to tell your husband anything and everything— to be able to confide in him and seek comfort when you needed it. You wanted to be taken care of, and in turn, take care of him. You wanted the supporting relationship that you had seen in your parents.

And though you knew that Wonwoo had none of these qualities, you still held out hope that he would one day improve. You had seen many people have changes of heart; even the cruelest man had a chance to change his ways.

When you had first met Wonwoo, you had been overcome with just how beautiful he was. You had been so sure that his heart must be as beautiful as his face, foolishly having fallen for his charming smile and pleasant offers which you now knew were just a facade to win you over. Your chest tightened thinking about how wrong you were. 

Yes, he was still the most beautiful man you had ever seen. His dark silky hair always fell perfectly over his forehead, hitting just below his eye, complementing his face shape. He always dressed in only the finest silk. You admitted to being guilty of admiring his figure from afar. You were sure he was in shape— any firebender who trained as vigorously as he definitely was. You had never seen more than a sliver of his collarbone; but it was enough to confirm that he had enough muscle to run a nation.

And that was something you did admire about him. He was able to run the Fire Nation to perfection. Within the first months of being Fire Lord, he had already come up with several clever solutions to problems that his late father had started. He was healing the Fire Nation’s relationship with the Earth Kingdom through his younger brother, Mingyu. He sent diplomats to the other 2 nations as well, promising aid in any crisis that might arise. He preached peace and harmony between the 4 nations, and you were glad he wasn’t a proud Fire Lord with elitist ideals, but a humble and honest one.

You still held respect for him as a Fire Lord, but any respect that you had for him as a person was dwindling the more days spent as if you didn’t exist. You longed to be noticed, to be treated as an actual person. You didn’t need to experience love, but you had always wanted to. Didn’t you deserve to at least once?

Wonwoo huffed, sweat beading on his forehead and back from the challenging training he had set himself to do. He breathed, and with each breath came new sparks of fire. It was hot in the room, but he barely noticed, too focused on the new skill he was attempting to master. It was a sort of jet propulsion— using the flames he was able to create to propel him forward at a high speed. 

Huoyan watched him from the corner where she napped. Her red scales brandished against the warm light that came from the fire in the room. Since Wonwoo was 13, he had stopped taking lessons from the palace masters and learned on his own with Huoyan instead. She was a strict master, one could say; but the bond he had created with her was stronger than anything else.

Wonwoo attempted the move again, faltering at the last second, causing the blast to hit the ceiling in an uneven flurry. He groaned and fell to the ground, frustrated at how long it was taking. He used to be the quickest learner in the Fire Nation. He was able to focus all his attention on mastering new skills with ease, and that allowed him to pick up on techniques twice as quickly as others.

He just couldn’t focus at all right now.

Huoyan whined from the corner, showing her disapproval of Wonwoo’s inability to pick things up quickly. He frowned, rolling to the side, still on the floor, and looked at her. She was curled up, almost catlike, her wings wrapped around her body like a blanket. But Wonwoo couldn’t miss the grumpy look on her face. He stood up and walked over to her, reaching out his hand to rest on her nose, scratching it gently.

“I’m sorry, Huoyan. I don’t think I’m in the right mindset to train right now…” He muttered, sitting down in front of the dragon. He reached over for his silk robe that he had folded before training, slipping his arms through the arm holes again but not bothering to tie it across his body. Huoyan licked Wonwoo's hand— a sign of affection and trust amongst dragons and their owners, and Wonwoo smiled.

“Do you think she hates me?” Wonwoo asked quietly, not really looking for an answer from the dragon, though she gave him a low rumble. “Right. She probably does. I would hate me too…” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. He had been thinking of you ever since Mingyu had come to visit almost a month ago. It was all he could think about. The guilt was eating him up from the inside out. Whenever he heard mention of you, his stomach lurched forward and the guilt practically doubled. 

“I don’t know what I need to prioritize anymore. I prepared my whole life for being the Fire Lord… I’ve learned what to do in situations and what choices to make that keep the wellbeing of the entire nation at its core. But no one prepared me for being a husband. How do I even make it up to her?” He frowned. 

He had always confided in Huoyan. As ridiculous as it sounded to talk to a dragon, Wonwoo had always found it the most natural. She couldn’t give him responses like Mingyu or Jeonghan, but she had insights that they didn’t. She couldn’t talk, but Wonwoo could still understand her. Their bond was strong enough for that.

He was too scared to talk to Jeonghan about his struggles. He was sure that he would laugh at him, unable to see how serious the problem was. He had never had any problem with dating or love.

“How do I show her that I care?” Wonwoo questioned. Huoyan huffed, making Wonwoo scowl and raise an eyebrow. “What do you mean? Of course I care about her! She’s my wife. It’s a husband’s duty to care for his wife.”

Huoyan shifted, tucking her wings closer to her chest and wagging her long tail along the floor.

“You’re right, I haven’t been showing her any attention… But… I have noticed her. I always have. She looked hopeful… and then… it was gone. I-I watched it fade away. Her eyes stopped shining. They’ve been dull for months.” He explained, distraught. “I wanted to talk to her. She always caught me at my busiest— or maybe I’m just… too nervous? You should see her Huoyan. She’s prettier than you. I’ve never seen anyone so… angelic. She used to try to start conversations with me; ask about my day and the sort. I wanted to keep talking to her but my heart would race so fast in my chest. It felt… uncomfortable.” He narrated with a small smile. Huoyan listened intently, her eyes closed. Every once and a while she would give a response— a grunt or a huff whenever Wonwoo was being unreasonable.

The conversation proved incredibly productive thanks to Huoyan’s sharp ears. Wonwoo was able to let out all his thoughts. Explaining them out loud helped him understand where things had gone wrong and how he could fix them. He decided to talk to you tonight. No more avoiding it out of fear, no more suppressing the guilt he felt. He would lay it all out to you; admit to every mistake. 

He needed to earn your trust, and he would do that with being painfully honest. He knew his ego would take a massive blow, but it already had. It was dwindling. The great Fire Lord that he had always aspired to be wasn’t able to even win over his own wife. The thought was laughable.

The walk down the corridor towards your bedroom was filled with nerves. His throat felt dry as he gave a gentle knock to your door. When he didn’t hear a response, his heart sank, but he knocked again. Did you hate him so much that you weren’t even willing to listen to him?

His chest tightened at the thought. He felt entirely helpless. If you wouldn’t even listen to him, there was nothing else he could try. He knocked one more time, calling out that he would open the door if you didn’t say anything.

There was no response, and so he pushed it open slowly.

The room was empty, and Wonwoo’s eyes widened. You had nowhere to go except for the palace and the servants had informed him that you had gone to bed early and should be in your room. 

Panic flooded through every inch of Wonwoo’s body. From the top of his head to his finger tips. His hands started to shake as he thought of all the possibilities.

The most likely of which? Kidnapping.

You were a nobleman’s daughter. You weren’t a firebender— you couldn’t defend yourself. You were the Fire Lady, an extremely desirable victim for enemies of the Fire Nation who wished to get some leverage over Wonwoo. His mind raced to the possibilities of needing to choose between you and whatever the people who took you wanted.

If it were a case of life or death, he would choose you in an instant.

Thanks to his extensive training, Wonwoo was easily able to think of the best move to take. Mingyu had brought with him a pack of shirshu from the Earth Kingdom. They were excellent trackers. They would be able to find you faster than Wonwoo’s search party could.

He found one of your headpieces from on top of your vanity and took it. He was in a frenzied rush, calling over his personal guards to come with him in case he needed backup. He had the shirshu sniff the headpiece, a relieved sigh escaping him when the animal seemed to pick up on your trail. He mounted Huoyan and had the guards go with the Shirshu, and started on the hasty search.

His heart was racing the entire time. Each time it looked like the shirshu had picked up on something, his heart rate felt like it doubled. It didn’t take long to find where you were, but when Wonwoo realized the location, his heart completely sank.

Orin was well known in the upper circle of the Fire Nation, and he was without a doubt, the most sickening man Wonwoo had ever met. His father had held a position in government and Orin had inherited it. Though Wonwoo wanted to arrest the man or even banish him from the Fire Nation, he didn’t have the means to expose him for his wrongdoings yet.

Kidnapping was one thing, but knowing that you were in the hands of Orin had Wonwoo’s stomach twisting inside out. He had never felt so sick to his stomach. And worst of all, it was all mostly directed towards himself. He hated himself.

If he had taken better care of you then this would never have happened. If he had paid attention to you— made sure you were safe and happy and looked after. If he had gotten over his stupid nerves and been a good husband, then you would never have had to have suffered like this.

Until he saw you with his own eyes, he could only pray with his entire being that you were still alive. He didn’t even want to think about the things Orin could do to you. Would he manipulate you? Threaten you? Take advantage of you? Harm you? Kill you?

He didn’t wait another second to storm into the house, startling the servants who quickly got out of the way. He quickly made a search through the entire house, his guards taking the lower floors while he took the upper. He blasted down the door to Orin’s bedchambers with firebending, not wasting a second to rush in.

What he found there was certainly not what he expected. The man was lying on the floor, a pool of blood underneath him, dripping out from a heavy stab wound to his chest. It was obvious that he wouldn’t survive more than 10 minutes at the most.

Before he took his chance to interrogate Orin, he saw a dark figure jumping out of the window from his peripheral vision. Was it the person who killed Orin? Then… Could they have taken you?

Wonwoo quickly changed his course, believing that going after the assassin would be more productive. If they had killed Orin then they must also know where you were, and maybe even, what Orin had done to you. He knew better than to trust anything Orin said to him. It was likely that even if he asked, the man would lie even until his dying breath. Honesty had never been one of Orin’s virtues. Not that he had any of those to begin with.

It was hard to pursue a person dressed in black and dark red during the night time. Wonwoo was thinking with a panicked and terrified brain— and so the easiest way he thought of to see where he was going was to firebend. He tried to be careful as he sprinted, shooting flames in front of him when he needed to. Sweat was building up as the exertion started to take a toll on his body. He needed to catch his breath; calm himself down from the panic he was dealing with. But the assassin was almost within reach, so he pushed his body just a little further.

He blasted one more flame forwards, but due to his exhaustion, it wasn’t perfectly aimed. It hit the assassin square in the back, knocking them to the ground roughly. Wonwoo’s eyes widened and he rushed forward. 

He heard them cough, trying to roll on the ground to put out the flame, but it had clearly already burned through their garments. They screamed as the fire scorched their skin. Wonwoo felt like he couldn’t breathe. He had never used firebending so carelessly before. Even in an Agni Kai, he was focused and precise. He had rarely been in combat that wasn’t for training purposes, and even when he was, he knew how important it was to stay in control of fire. It was known that fire was the easiest element to lose control of; and so, the first thing that new firebenders were taught was the first rule of fire bending to never break: never lose control of your flame. 

But Wonwoo had done just that.

Wonwoo quickly put out the flame on the assassin’s back, grimacing at the bright red scorch marks they had left on their skin. From the design of the robes, he quickly realized that this wasn’t just any assassin. He had come in contact with The Scarlet Shadow. 

He quickly pushed her back so that her face was up, holding her shoulders so that her exposed back couldn’t come into contact with the rubble on the road. His hand trembled as he moved to pull down the black fabric covering the assassin’s face. She needed to be able to breath easily after being burned so badly.

Wonwoo had already been through enough panic tonight, but this was more than anything else. The face he was faced with once he removed the cloth was the last one he ever expected. Soft eyebrows, delicate eyelashes closed over eyes that he knew well, perfect lips parted to let uneven heaves escape, cheeks tainted with dirt and scraped from the fall. 

“No… N-no…” He struggled to breath, holding her up as carefully as he could. His eyes stung with tears that he refused to let fall and his chest constricted for the fifth time that night. It had all gone wrong from the start— his attempts to help had all backfired. And now he was faced with a reality that felt like a stab to the heart.

Wonwoo had burned his own wife.

Wonwoo’s brain made sure to remind him of his very first conversation with you as Huoyan flew him back to the palace, you securely in his arms. You had asked to meet his dragon. You had been excited to, even making sure he promised to. Those promises had burned to the ground like everything else. He would never allow himself to forget the sparkle in your eyes as you asked him. He hadn’t seen the same shimmer of excitement since you had first become his wife.

“Would you be so kind as to introduce me to her once I move into the palace?” 

He had smiled at your question back then. He had been pleasantly surprised that you seemed so interested in dragons. It wasn’t what he would have expected from you, but it gave him hope that he would be able to go closer to you. He had also always loved dragons.

“Of course. Once you move into the palace I’ll be sure to introduce you to her. Perhaps I could even take you for a ride on her?”

Take you for a ride on her. That promise was finally being completed now, in the worst way Wonwoo could ever imagine. He held you a little closer as he thought about it, his heavy breath dispersing into the air with every heavy sweep of Huoyan’s wings.

He would never forgive himself.

The healers at the royal palace were the nation’s best, and Wonwoo made sure that they had strict orders to give you their full attention. He couldn’t leave the room; couldn’t bear to think of leaving you again. No, he would stick by your side from now on. He would never leave you alone. He would devote all his attention— his heart, his mind, his body, his soul to loving you. He would make sure you never questioned his affections again. 

As he watched the healers apply medicinal creams and ointment to your back, he was again reminded of that very first conversation with you. 

“Of course I had always hoped that my marriage would contain mutual love and respect… who knows, maybe it still can?”

Your hope and optimism was something Wonwoo should have cherished. Your faith that a love-filled marriage was still possible for you was a quality that he could only wish he possessed. He had been entirely foolish. He had made every mistake possible to make. He had watched silently as all that hope and excitement and trust had faded from your body.

He would never forgive himself.

He always saw you roaming the corridors alone. You often went out to feed the turtle ducks. They were your only company other than the servants. Wonwoo assumed at first that you would immediately find ways of entertaining yourself. You had all the power you could wish for; anyone would bend knee and foot to your every command. You could host extravagant balls or buy gifts for yourself from across the world. You could wear the most precious gemstones and fabrics in the entire Fire Nation. 

But you never did. Your humbleness had stuck with you all this time. It was something that Wonwoo could not take away from you. He didn’t know whether to be grateful for that or not. The virtue was admirable, but if you had not possessed it, could you have been happier?

Wonwoo shook his head. It was all too late for these trifling what if’s and maybe’s. The past was set in stone, unchangeable. All he could do was look to the future with hope and treat the present with the proper determination to change his ways.

Your burns were severe. Being blasted by such a powerful fireball from such a short distance had certainly left an impression. Wonwoo cried when he first saw it. Red, angry, scorched skin marked right in the middle of your back, sticking out awfully against your otherwise smooth skin. It was all because of him. He had left a second mark on you— one much more visible than the first. He had damaged your mind, and now, he had damaged your body. The guilt he carried was sickening.

Wonwoo asked Jeonghan to cancel every single responsibility for the next 4 months. Jeonghan panicked, of course. It was nearly impossible to expect the Fire Lord to do nothing for that long, but Wonwoo was firm in his request, and somehow, Jeonghan managed it.

He spent most of his time by your bedside, looking after you as carefully as he could. He ordered the healers to show him how to properly wrap your wound and apply new medicine, and once he was sure he could do it properly, he assured them that he would take care of it.

Huoyan slept closeby as well, knowing that Wonwoo wouldn’t leave your side, but wanting to be a listening ear if he needed it. Wonwoo was grateful for that, and used the opportunity well. Daily talks to the dragon helped him clear his thoughts and understand his feelings. Huoyan couldn’t lift the guilt, though.

There was only one person who could.

Wonwoo anticipated when you would wake up for more than a week. He needed constant reassurance from the healers that this was normal. Your body needed to conserve its energy to focus on healing itself. The medicine helped, but it was your own body that was going to heal it.

It took ten days for you to regain consciousness.

The first thing you felt when you woke up was excruciating pain in your back. You felt like you barely had any strength in your body. Everything felt as if you were in a daze, and your memory was extremely foggy. You couldn’t remember anything from the last month.

When you gathered enough strength to open your eyes, the first thing you saw was the symbol of the Fire Nation. A large red tapestry was hung on the wall, at least four times the length of your body. You couldn’t see much else besides it, as you were lying on your stomach, your head resting on the pillow sideways.

Ah. The palace.

You sighed, but immediately regretted it as any movement brought more shocked pain to your back. You grimaced, a pained whine escaping your lips. You felt relief before you could register the reason why, and forced your eyes open.

It was Wonwoo, pressing a cool cloth against your bandaged back gently.

Wait.

It was Wonwoo?!

“Wonwoo?” You questioned, your voice softer than you were used to. It would still take some time to get your energy back— even talking felt like more exertion than comfortable.

“Y/n. Don’t talk, please. It will only tire you out.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. Wonwoo sounded different. His voice was deep and slightly raspy, but soft and full of worry. You were sure of it. It was impossible to miss. He was… worried about you?

“Wonwoo?” You asked again with a little more urgency. You felt the cloth on your back stop moving. He stayed silent, waiting for you to continue your thought. Clearly you wanted to talk, and though he didn’t like the idea of you overexerting yourself, there were many things that you were probably curious about.

“Why are you… doing that?” You were almost scared to ask. Your own sensibility forbade you from blindly trusting Wonwoo in the moment, even though your heart was screaming for it. He was so close to you (literally within 30 cm of your face), and it was all you had wanted in the past. You had just wanted to be close to your husband. You wanted to love him, and for him to love you back. 

You forced yourself to be rational and not fold immediately, though everything about him was entrancing you at this moment. The smell of bergamot hit your nose and almost distracted you completely from the pain in your back. Wonwoo’s touch was soft and hesitant. He handled you as if you were a piece of glass that could shatter at any small impact. He had already hurt you enough for 1 lifetime. He never wanted to do it again.

“I want to take care of you. You’re badly injured, Y/n.” He muttered. You looked at his face, searching for sincerity in it. And it was there; clear as day. His eyes were scared and tired, as if he had barely gotten sleep in the last week. 

“What… happened? Why- how did I get injured?” You demanded. Your throat was strained from the energy it took to speak, but you needed answers.

“I don’t want to distress you. You’re still in pain. Please, just… sleep for now?” He asked hopelessly.

You were torn. Sleep sounded like a dream right now, but you didn’t know if you could trust Wonwoo for answers later. You couldn’t figure him out— you didn’t know him; you couldn’t trust him. He changed like a switch after a year, and now you weren’t sure what to believe. 

“Will you tell me later? Will you tell me everything?”

Wonwoo nodded, “Yes, of course. You are overdue for an… explanation. And I am sorry. I’ve treated you worse than an animal for the past year. I… I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to regain your trust, but I want to. Please believe me— there’s nothing more I want to do than to make things right.” You saw his eyes get hazy, overcome with emotion; grief, remorse, self-loathing, hope. You wanted to believe him, and you barely had the energy to do otherwise, so you found yourself humming in small agreement. It seemed to put him at ease a bit. He relaxed his shoulders and stood up.

“I’ll be here if you need anything. Let me know if you’re uncomfortable.” He smiled at you— an expression you hadn’t seen from him since that very first meeting. This smile was sad, though. It couldn’t reach his eyes and it quickly fell back down. You wondered what it would look like in full. You wanted to see him smile brightly. You wanted to be able to be the cause of his smile; to be able to make him happy.

He drew the curtains to block out the sun that had just risen and walked out of your view. You closed your eyes and welcomed sleep, falling into dreams quickly. Your dream was unpleasant. You tried again and again to get Wonwoo’s attention and affection, only to be met with his old attitude. It was as if he was unaware of your existence. When you woke up, you had a bitter feeling in your chest.

You were in significantly less pain after your sleep. From the light outside, you reckoned it was a couple hours after dinner. You could sit up on your own, and you could feel your strength slowly coming back to you. You sat up quietly, having your first view of the room you were in. It was large and spacious. A large balcony was to the other side of it, decorated with elegant golden statues of two dragons. They were embracing each other; a couple.

You looked over to the dresser, and heat immediately spread up your neck and to your cheeks. You had caught Wonwoo changing his top robes. His back was right in your view. You couldn’t deny that you had pictured it before. Wonwoo had always been the most attractive man you’d ever seen. His skin was milky and smooth. His muscles were defined but he still kept a lean physique. Your eyes were trained on him as he slipped his arms through fresh red robes, tying the garment across his chest. It was only when he started turning around that you forced yourself to look away, pretending as if you hadn’t been staring. 

“You’re awake.” Wonwoo commented, soon joining you on the bed— sitting on the edge of it. “Did you sleep well? How are you feeling now?”

You shied away from his dark pupils that were examining your face. His eyes looked brighter and more refreshed than before— he looked more alive than he had hours ago, and you liked the look on him. He looked… prettier.

“I’m not in as much pain now. I slept okay… just had a bad dream.” You admitted, frowning at the thought. It was hard to trust that Wonwoo would keep being this nice to you. You had never been an attention seeker; usually you hated any kind of focus on you, but something about Wonwoo’s attention was pleasant and warm. 

“A bad dream?” Wonwoo echoed, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. “What was it about?” You shied back slightly, unused to his contented look as he waited for you to respond.

“It was just… you were ignoring me again. In the dream. I hated it.” You whispered. Wonwoo’s eyes softened and saddened, and without thinking, he reached out to cup your cheek. He knew that he had hurt you by ignoring you all those months, but to know that it had hurt you this much? It felt like his already shattered heart was splintering into his insides, tearing apart his entire body and being. 

“I am so sorry, Y/n… For not showing you the love you deserve, for ignoring you all that time. I don’t know if I have an explanation for it… there’s no excuse that justifies treating you like that. Especially you. I-I’ve thought about it every day since my brother’s visit. I’m ashamed to say that it took him to knock some sense into me. I would try to explain myself… but I’m afraid I’ll only sound selfish and stupid.” He sighed heavily, shutting his eyes tightly and dropping his hand from your cheek.

“No. Tell me, Wonwoo. I want to know, no matter how bad it sounds. I want to know everything. You said you’d tell me everything.” You demanded. He nodded.

“You’re right. Are you… quite comfortable? Explaining it all might take some time. I’m still worried about your back.” Although it warmed your heart that he was so worried (the cute frown that he wore while trying to inspect if you were in pain had you melting), you cared the most about hearing what he had to say.

“I’m okay, Wonwoo. Don’t worry about me.” You reassured him. That was all it took to get him to start talking, and he started from the very beginning.

“After my father’s death, I had to find a wife quickly, as you know. I didn’t have time to deliberate much on who to pick— I just had my instincts to trust. I am certain I picked the right woman, though. You have never once disappointed me, Y/n. The fault was always on my part. I was the one who ignored you. I was the one who never tried to get closer. I was the one who failed you. And I’m so, so sorry for it.” Wonwoo’s eyes were getting teary— he couldn’t hide the gut-wrenching guilt that he felt whenever he thought about it. 

You had never seen him this emotional. You were happy that he felt comfortable enough with you to be this vulnerable, but the burden he was carrying made you feel heavy as well. You wanted to comfort him, console him, assure him that it was alright. You didn’t like holding grudges— for as long as you can remember, you were always hopeful that people could change. Wonwoo was finally showing the sincerity you had always longed for. He blinked back the tears before continuing, taking a deep breath and steadying himself by looking at you.

“I always wanted to talk to you. It just… felt uncomfortable. I’ve never been good at talking to people casually. They don’t train you for that in classes, believe it or not. I’m good at public speaking and strategic planning for the nation; but if you had ever put me next to girls in school, I’d end up a flustered and oblivious mess. I was always like that. Mingyu was better with the ladies and I was better with… textbooks or animals. They can’t be hurt as easily.

“I can only assume that by ignoring you, I was trying to avoid hurting you with my words. I never considered that by doing that, I would have caused you much more pain than a few awkward conversations. You always left my heart racing when you would smile at me from across the room those first few weeks. I kept a straight face because I knew the image would stay in my brain for the rest of the day and keep me from completing important tasks. Ignoring you and the effect you had on me was a bad way to cope with my feelings. I didn’t think I had time for love.” 

The explanation took you by surprise. You had always presumed that Wonwoo had never cared for you, and that was why he never put any effort into talking to you. Knowing that you had been in his heart all that time surged the hope that you had for him that had been hidden away in your heart.

“I planned to talk to you sooner, but on the night I tried to find you, you weren’t in your room. I assumed you had gotten kidnapped, so I tracked your scent with a shirshu brought from the Earth Kingdom. You can imagine my distress when I realized that the trial led right to Orin’s homestead. I was so panicked. I could only imagine what a man like him would want to do with the Fire Lord’s wife.” He breathed, the panic he felt from the time rushing back slightly.

You frowned, your heart aching to hear how much he cared for you. You grabbed his left hand gently, slowly giving it a reassuring squeeze. The gesture made a tear slip down his cheek, but he wiped it away as quickly as possible. 

“I… saw someone jump out of the window and decided to follow them given that Orin was already almost dead on the floor. I thought they would know where you were if they had searched the house in order to assassinate him. I-I didn’t know it was you, and I was so panicked from it all that I used my firebending recklessly. I…” His lip trembled and more tears spilled past his waterline. 

You were close to crying as well. Seeing Wonwoo so heartbroken by his own actions twisted your insides together. You pulled on his hand, making him lean forward until you could wrap your arms around him. You had never wanted to hug someone as badly. The way he crumbled into your embrace immediately finally broke you, and you allowed the tears to fall. You didn’t want him to talk until he had calmed down, so you rubbed his back, tracing the line of vertebrae one by one. You pulled away when you felt his breathing stabilise, but still kept him close to you.

“And then? After you hit me?” You questioned softly but curiously.

Wonwoo sucked in a breath, “I never meant to hit you— even before I knew it was you. I never knew you were The Scarlet Shadow. I wish I could have taken the time to be proud of you, instead of harming you.” He frowned again, but you just shook your head.

“It was all a mistake. I will heal soon. I’m pretty strong, you know?” You smiled, brushing away a tear stain from his cheek.

“I brought you here immediately and the palace healers took care of you. I asked them to teach me how to change your bandages and apply the medicine. I’ve been taking care of you for the last week.” He smiled, and you were glad he wasn’t teary anymore. You didn’t like seeing him cry.

“Wait… What’s today then? How long was I out for?” You asked. 

Wonwoo looked up, counting in his head, “It’s the 14th of the month… You were out for 10 days.”

“The 14th? Isn’t that…?” You looked up, meeting Wonwoo’s eyes. Realisation dawned in them as well. It was your wedding anniversary.

“1 whole year and this has been our longest conversation yet.” You giggled. The hurt feelings you felt from that reality were gone now— replaced with only amusement as you knew the cause had been nothing but the shyness of your husband.

“I am never going to ignore you like that again. I promise.” He said seriously, and you smiled.

“I know you won’t.” You kissed his cheek before you were even realising what you were doing. Both your eyes widened simultaneously before blush spread to your cheeks. “Sorry, you just looked– I just-” You didn’t register that as you were stuttering, Wonwoo’s eyes were focused entirely on your lips. He cut you off before you could finish, catching you by surprise.

You had never been kissed before, and neither had Wonwoo. It felt new and unfamiliar, yet somehow comforting. Wonwoo’s lips were warm and soft, and feeling them move against yours instantly brought butterflies to your stomach. It took a second for you to properly kiss him back, and even more time for you both to find a steady rhythm. 

It was like a dance almost; You had to tilt your head the exact right amount in order to not bump your nose against his, all while still moving your lips against his at the perfect pace. You weren’t sure what to do with your hands. They felt awkward just sitting in your lap— especially when Wonwoo’s right hand was gently holding your jaw. They found their place on his shoulders before too long, and that seemed to feel right to you. It grounded you while also allowing you to pull him closer to you, which was something you desperately wanted.

When you tried to deepen the kiss, though, Wonwoo pulled away. You blinked open your eyes, breathing heavily. 

“Why’d you stop?” You asked through short inhales. Wonwoo’s face reddened. 

“I- you were pulling me closer, and I wanted to hold you, but then I’d have to hold your back, a-and I can’t risk hurting you…” He whispered.

“Wonwoo… You’re going to make me fall in love with you.” You whined softly, your eyes staring into his.

“I always wished you would.” He breathed.

“You don’t have to wish for it anymore.” You promised him. “Can I… kiss you again?” You asked in a small whisper. Wonwoo nodded, immediately resuming where it had left off— lips connected; gentle, loving, and long overdue. 

“I told you not to get up!” Wonwoo yelped, surprised by your arms encircling his waist before he could finish tying his robes.

“I said I’m fine. It’s been over 2 weeks. It barely even hurts anymore.” You shushed him, hugging his middle and resting your cheek against his soft silk robes.

“Barely?” He repeated, “I’m not letting you do anything until you can say it never hurts anymore.”

“You’re so stubborn.” You complained. Your hands soon found the tie on Wonwoo’s garment, and you smiled subconsciously as you realized he hadn’t been able to finish getting dressed. You held the sash in one hand, the other briefly running over his abdomen before he caught it.

“You can’t keep your hands to yourself, I see.” He muttered, amused at your actions. You shifted around until you were facing him, and started to cross his robes, tying them together (not without sneaking one last peak at his chest and abs).

“I was just trying to help you get dressed; obviously.” You rolled your eyes before stepping up onto your tippy toes to give him a small kiss.

“Are you really feeling okay, though?” He asked softly. You nodded. You really did feel fine this morning, and especially excited. Wonwoo had promised to take you for a ride on Huoyan; finally fulfilling his promise to you over a year ago.

“You know I always tell you when I’m in pain.” You soothed him.

“I know, but I can’t help but be worried about you. It’s my fault, after all. I want to take responsibility to make sure you heal properly.” He sighed. He always made sure to look at the burn every day to see how it was progressing. It had gotten significantly better, but he always had lingering worries that he had permanently damaged your body.

“It was an accident, Wonwoo.” You brushed your fingers over his cheek, tracing the line of his cheekbone with care. Falling in love with his good looks from afar over the year he ignored you was almost inevitable, but in the past two weeks when he was by your side at all times, talking and laughing and loving you, it was impossible to not fall 100 times harder for him. 

“Accident or not, I hurt you. It was a mistake I am never going to let myself repeat. A husband should never hurt his wife.” He frowned. You felt like you had this conversation with him almost every day. He wouldn’t let go of the thought that everything that had gone wrong was because of him. While it was true that he had made many mistakes, you didn’t want him to carry that guilt forever. 

“I already forgave you enough times, my love. There is no need to feel guilty anymore.” You shushed him for now by hugging him, knowing that you would probably have the exact same conversation the next day. Wonwoo hugged you back— it had been 4 days since you had convinced Wonwoo that he could touch your back without fear, and 7 days since you had started trying to convince him. You had both enjoyed hugs where you didn’t need to be careful of any pain, and you enjoyed another one. Wonwoo squeezed you tightly before letting you go.

“I’ll help you get ready, and then we can go.” He smiled.

“I can get ready by myself.” Your argument was bound to fail. Wonwoo followed you like a lost puppy wherever you went, and when you started walking towards the dresser for a fresh set of robes, he quickly followed.

“You ready?” Wonwoo’s bright smile was something that you would never get tired of. The gentle creases in his face to the way his eyes brightly reflected his smile, shining brightly; it was all so perfect. You would truly never get tired of him.

“I’ve waited 382 days for this. I’ve never been more ready!” You were eager and still a little impatient as Wonwoo had made you wait until after breakfast. The much looked-forward-to dragon ride had been one of the only things on your mind for the last week. And the second you saw Huoyan, you knew it would be the most magical experience you’d ever have.

Wonwoo helped you onto her back after you said hello and gave her some nose scratches which Wonwoo told you she loved. Wonwoo got on in front of you and told you to hold on tightly. Lifting up into the air caused some shrieks from you and giggles from Wonwoo. You calmed down quickly as Huoyan flew steadily. The view of the entire Fire Nation capital from up so high was unbelievable. You had never seen anything as gorgeous.

“Everyone looks so tiny from up here.” You breathed, watching the ground below as you flew gently around it. People looked to be the size of ants, and large houses were merely the size of a gold piece coin. Huoyan soared upwards above the clouds once you had had your fill of looking at the ground. 

The sky was even more beautiful than the ground. It was a clear sunny day, and the clouds in the sky were varied. From large fluffy ones to misty thin ones, you tried to spot as many as you could with Wonwoo. You got tired near the end of the flight. You wished you could stay up in the sky with Wonwoo all day, but you still hadn’t recovered all your energy. You rested your head on Wonwoo’s back, closing your eyes and letting a happy smile envelop your face.

“Tired, my love?” Wonwoo asked softly. You hummed. You had been up in the air for hours now and easily lost track of time. 

“Would it be silly if… I wanted to kiss you up here?” You asked quietly. 

Wonwoo smiled at your slightly sleepy request, “No, it’s not silly. Unless I’m silly for wanting it as well.” He giggled softly and turned, making his face visible to you. “Huoyan, sorry.” He said quickly before capturing your lips with his. 

It didn’t last long, as Huoyan started to complain about it all happening on her back. Wonwoo didn’t press for a long kiss and just let Huoyan fly back down to the palace. The rest of the day was spent less excitingly, but still enjoyable. Any moment with Wonwoo was enjoyable. You visited the turtle duck pond again and fed them, and then walked around the grounds of the royal palace together.

Once you were all ready for bed, tucked under the covers with your head on Wonwoo’s chest, he spoke again, “I thought of a question. I probably should have asked you earlier, but it only just came to me now.”

“Hm?”

“Why did you become The Scarlet Shadow?”

You hummed, “I guess it was just… a way to spend my time. I didn’t have anything to do, and I had always wanted to try fighting when I was little, so I just decided to go for it. It was very… fulfilling. I liked being able to help people.” You smiled, “And, hey, I guess I was pretty good at it. I even killed Orin.” 

Wonwoo laughed, “I think I should be worried about what will happen to me if I ever anger you.” He rubbed your arm, sleepily watching you listen to his heartbeat.

“Don’t worry… I love you too much to do anything to you.” You mumbled.

“Me too.” He smiled, thinking back to the events of it all. It had been a long journey for him to end up here; with you in his arms. Among the ups and downs, one thing had stayed steady: your hope that he would change. You still gave him a second chance, even after all the pain and mistakes and broken promises. You still loved him, even when he couldn’t bear to love himself anymore. And as he made sure to heal every wound he had ever given you, you also healed his shattered soul, putting it back together piece by piece.

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[goryhorroor]

in the silent era of horror, the word "horror" began to be used as a generic signation, and more often instead used was the words "weird" and "mythical and mysterious." this is a time when adaptions were so rapidly made like frankenstein and edgar allan poe's works dominated this era. horror as a genre wasn't specifically "created" or the word wasn't used until dracula in the 1930s.

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Part 2/2

By the time Stanley had realized he wasn't as alone as he believed himself to be entrapped in this ravenous abyss; he had honestly begun to suspect that he was finally starting to properly lose his mind.

In all the ceaseless miles that Stanley had journeyed during his apparent permanent residence within the dark devouring void, not once had he encountered another conscious, walking, talking being similar to himself. Every other formerly living creature that he had crossed paths with had been so... silent. Empty. Dead, in every sense of the word. It was as though the very essence of life itself had been sucked out of their bodies with a straw, their forms slowly falling apart piece by piece under the vicious gluttony of the darkness that surrounded them. They looked like they actually were supposed to be there, unmoving and comatose, unlike him.

So, when Stanley first began to encounter the twins, all of a sudden, he wasn't the only one in the dark.

When meeting the first pair of them, he found himself standing in a lake.

He hadn't even noticed the changes at first. It felt as though he had been walking for weeks on end, his body moving purely on autopilot and his aching legs leading him towards a destination only it knew. A thick fog of forgetfulness and flickering memories had descended upon his brain like a heavy blanket of numbing static as he had traveled. In this absentminded state, he hadn't even realized that the ever-present undulating, buzzing darkness surrounding him had begun to gradually shift and morph to form a horizon line; stretching into tall looming cliffsides that almost seemed to close in on him. Once the nonexistent floor beneath his soles abruptly began to ripple and warp, like the disturbed surface of a shallow puddle; only then did he finally notice his transformed environment.

The transition was seamless, almost dream-like. One moment, he was still surrounded by that filthy, overwhelming abyss; and the next, his boots were suddenly plunged deep into the cold, dark lake water.

The silence didn't leave, however. It still choked and stuffed its way into Stanley's ears to clog up his mind with thick cotton; the eerie quiet not quite matching the calm, almost serene scenery the void seemed to have abruptly transformed itself into. Like a movie with its sound cut off; leaving only the unsettling hum of the projector to fill the empty air.

It was odd. The lake was surely incredibly deep. He could obviously tell from how thin and pathetically small the shores appeared all the way from where he now unceremoniously stood in the middle of the lake. Stan could look down and see the darkness below his feet swallow what meager light that managed to break through the murky waters. The overwhelming black almost seemed to beckon him, gaping and haunting; a bottomless underwater pit of pitch black that never seemed to end.

And yet, he didn't sink. Stanley remained perfectly level, the almost ink like waters stopping just at ankle level, as though he were held up just above the surface by some invisible force. Even the writhing waves seemed small and low, as though the waters were shy to climb up his legs further than that. It was odd, so very odd.

However, it wasn't nowhere near as odd as the sight that greeted him when he finally lifted his eyes from the waters.

Stanley had crossed paths with truly unbelievable sights in this strange somewhere; from bursting, collapsing stars; to the imploding heat death of entire universes, but none of them seemed to hold the candle to what he saw then when he lifted his eyes:

Children.

Two, to be exact. Two, nearly identical looking children stood motionless before him; completely soaked through to the bone as though they had taken a plunge into the frigid water that pooled around their ankles. It was a girl and a boy, both adorned with twin expressions utterly devoid of emotion, their wide eyed stare seeming to burn holes into his thin jacket. Their drenched clothes sagged off of their scrawny frames; thin rivulets of water dirpping off of them and disturbing the glassy surface of the water at their feet. The little girl's hair had messily stuck to her face in thin sodden strands, her cheeks still full and round with youth just like the boy's. They looked young. Too young to be in a place such as this.

Oh, but their eyes; their eyes.

They burned with such anger; such injustice, brighter than any dying star or galaxies he had ever seen. Anger towards the world, to fate, to whatever cruel deity that had deemed them fit to be sent to this wretched place so prematurely. They were too young to be here; to be entrapped like he was amongst this hungry darkness. And yet, here they were, sheer denial against their own untimely deaths being the only thing keeping them awake and conscious amongst the dead and rotting. A show of juvenile defiance to nature itself so vehement even the all-consumign darkness seemed hesitant to devour them whole just yet.

It saddened him. It saddened him to know that they belonged there, that they were supposed to be there. He could see it, he could feel it; they were dead. No amount of determination could deny that universal fact.

When they spoke, Stanley could hear anger:

Stan chuckled in a futile attempt to lighten the suddenly heavy atmosphere that threatened to crush him whole. "A lake monster? You kids and your imagination," he teased, hoping to somehow rid the poor kids of the haunted look that seemed to whirl in their glares. No child should have been burdened with such a knowing look; such eyes that looked like they had seen everything there was to see about the world, the horrid and the good.

Clearly, it had been the wrong thing to say, and Stanley's faux pas was rewarded with a scowl from the little boy. A world's worth of sour contempt etched into every contorted groove that his grimace seemed to dig into his much too young face. Stan suddenly felt guilt squeeze at his weary bones for having caused that.

"That's what they all said," the boy spat out, eyes shining with a sheen of wetness Stan wasn't sure he was prepared to deal with.

Stan left that first interaction with the twins with the feeling of guilt and sorrow still clining to him.

He couldn't have known, at the time. He couldn't have known that this wouldn't be anywhere near the last time that he would meet the pair. He hadn't realised just how many of them there were. After that first pair, his endless journeying within the Abyss was hardly be spent alone anymore. Countless more times, he came face to face with the exact same two young and impossibly worn faces; forced to meet one pair of beaten and bruised kids after another.

Not one pair had died the same death as another. Some had gotten lost, prey to whatever threat that had snatched them up out in the open; some had fallen from high up; some had been crushed under an incredible weight; some had burned; some eaten alive; some zombified. Some didn't even seem physically harmed at all, body perfectly intact, and yet that same faraway, distrubed look in their eyes remained.

He thought the worst ones were the ones he found alone. A little girl or a little boy, left all lonesome without their other half there. Twins, he remembered a pair of them telling him once.

Once, he had come across a town full of silent, stone statues. It was a rustic, shabby, almost nostalgic looking town- odd and strangely familiar. The sight of it had tugged at an aged memory that had long since wasted away in the back of his mind. It was serene, almost deceptively so. The sun shone; the air smelled crisp and fresh; numerous waterfalls continued to crash down from the tall cliffsides; and a soft nonexistent breeze whistled through the thicket of pine trees that blanketed the outskirts of the town. None of it seemed to match the gruesome scene of the hundred wailing statues that littered every inch of the town.

He had found the boy's statue on the other side of town, deep within the green forest and toppled over the gnarled roots of a towering tree. Like the rest of the townsfolk, he too, was frozen mid-shriek; his stone face twisted and contorted into a mock impression of a silent scream as his body lay paused in a writhing struggle. He made sure to be gentle when he carried the boy's statue over to place it beside the girl's, whose statue stood far deeper into the forest, sporting the same rictus grimace of terror as her brother's. It somehow felt wrong for them to have been so far apart from one another, even in death.

He had come to dread meeting of the twins. He hated every second he had to confront yet another pair of dead children that did not belong here, but fate had decided they did. He despised having to listen to their tales of woe as they wept about the injustice of the world, of having died young; he despised himself for being unable to do more than weep with them.

"We don't belong here, Grunkle Stan," he would listen to the little girl weep, calling him a title he didn't recognize. He never remembered if they had ever told him their name, but they all seem to know his, without a fail. "If we're dead, then what about you? What about Grunkle Ford? Mom? Dad? What about them? We can't be dead, we can't be," they would say, confusion and frustration written all over their faces. They didn't understand. They didn't understand why they had come to the darkness so early, so unfairly.

He never knew what to say, he'd never been good with words.

All he could do was kneel down to their levels and engulf them in his arms, hoping he could somehow squeeze the pain straight out of their bodies in his embrace. He hugged them, because what else could he do?

[kflixnet]

New to KFLIXNET: Check out our member Miso's fic!

KEROSENE 𖣂

there’s a fine line between delusion and reality.

jake sim was your boyfriend. park sunghoon was your best friend. neither knew about each other. you weren’t sure where your heart belonged, and you watch as your life begins to tear in half from the secrecy and guilt. but just when you think you’ve got it all figured out, an earth-shattering secret changes everything.

pairing: bf!jake vs. bsf!sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: psychological thriller, horror, love triangle (kinda… you’ll see)

warnings: violence/death, heavily implied mental illness, very psychological, cheating (?) ig, kinda hoon focused….(sorry), enha’s personalities and backstories are not a reflection of reality, it’s just a story

featuring: enhypen

playlist: it was only a dream by joey quinones, S.D.O.S by alex g, back to black by amy winehouse, somebody that I used to know by gotye, I was only temporary by my head is empty, only you (and you alone) by the platters

word count: 9.9k

taglist ! @enhacolor @jwnghyuns @adoredbyjay @theothernads @firstclassjaylee @dollschan @enreveriee @surrik-i @jwonistic @laurradoesloveu @laylasbunbunny @tmtxtf @shixna606 @kumiwon @heeaxvhhoon

network tags: @kflixnet @k-vanity @k-radio @enhypennetwork

see the trailer.

a/n: hello yall! sorry these fics are taking so long,,,pls still look forward to more, I got a couple lined up! and p.s., look for foreshadowing in this one ;) there’s lots of hints leading up to the plot twist! <3

The flames burned bright, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the crackling fire. The yellow and orange flames flashed like rubies, licking the dark sky, illuminating the beach as you watched them burn. It was like a dance, the way the fire swayed in the wind.

“You okay?” a voice broke you out of your trance as Jake planted a kiss on your cheek. You snapped out of it, smiling up at him as he reached for your hand, clasping it gently in his. He sat down on the sand beside you.

Jake Sim. A year older than you, the sweetest boy you had met in your entire life. He had sparkling eyes full of youth, a smile that could make angels sing, and a calmer temperament than anyone you’d seen in your 20 years of age. You were lucky enough to call him your boyfriend.

You had always been a rather quiet person, but Jake was the opposite. Talkative and popular, he had a seemingly endless amount of friends, many of which threw parties like the one you were at tonight. You grew to enjoy the nights spent at bonfires, house parties, the various celebrations Jake invited you to.

Many people thought you were polar opposites, but that was what made you perfect for each other. You didn’t make friends easily, but he was happy to share his. He wasn’t very emotional, but you didn’t mind coaxing him into confessing what he was feeling. He helped you come out of your shell, you helped him learn to love the peaceful moments. After all, they say opposites attract. And that was certainly true for you.

You had only been dating for a year and a half, but all your friends told you he was the one. And you were beginning to really believe it.

“I’m good.” you replied sweetly. You and Jake’s friends were laughing and dancing boisterously, but you didn’t feel like joining in on the fun. The fire was giving you plenty of company, and an unsettling feeling was creeping into your heart. Maybe it was the Halloween season, or maybe your doubts went deeper than that.

“I’ll sit with you then.” Jake offered kindly, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, and you leaned into him gratefully.

You were in love with Jake, you knew that. He was the first thing you thought of in the morning and the last at night, the main topic of all your conversations. He was sweet, thoughtful, smart, funny, and had every quality you ever wanted from a boyfriend. He was perfect, yet somehow, this didn’t feel right. Six months later, and you were beginning to have doubts. You had doubts in all of your past relationships, but none of them were as good as this one. Despite that, something was off. You could feel it.

For now, you tried to put it behind you, letting the fire and Jake’s warm touch comfort you as you watched the dancing flames.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

It was Sunday morning. You were looking forward to a day of no classes, and some alone time. While you loved being with Jake, you had spent everyday together for the past two weeks, and you were craving a little time to yourself.

It was a bit of a drive, but you suddenly wanted to go to your favorite bakery, picking up a fresh baguette to bring home, plus a few pastries for yourself. After that, you visited a nearby park, sitting on a bench alone.

You let the fresh air revitalize you, your hair floating in the breeze. There was hardly anyone in the park, the locals deterred by the fog and biting cold, but you had always enjoyed gloomy weather. You took a croissant out of the ribbon wrapped box, taking a bite and relishing in the peaceful feeling of being alone.

You closed your eyes briefly, and when you opened them, you were put out to discover someone standing before you.

He was extraordinarily good looking; it was the first thing you noticed about him. With his kind eyes, tall stature, and silky dark hair, he looked like an angel appearing out of the fog. He was standing a couple of feet away from the bench you were sitting at, looking at you directly with a soft smile.

“Oh,” you said, startled. “Hi.” You weren’t sure if you were supposed to address him, but he was clearly waiting to say something to you.

“Hi,” he replied. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I just liked your shirt.” You looked down at yourself, completely forgetting about your ripped tee. You noticed his neat grey sweater and ironed jeans, wearing a thin silver chain around his neck, and you grew suddenly embarrassed about your messy outfit. He smelled of lilies and fresh paper, the kind of scent that came from a cologne but seemed to be natural.

“You like Amy Winehouse?” you asked, and he nodded excitedly.

“Love her. Valerie was my top song for like, three years in a row.” He seemed eager to share his love of jazz music, and if you were a little more of a senseless person, you could’ve fallen in love right then and there.

“What are the odds?” you said, not sure how to respond. He smiled. Then he held out his hand.

“I’m Sunghoon.” You laughed at the odd gesture, shaking his hand. His grip was firm, and his hands were warm.

“Nice to meet you, Sunghoon. I’m y/n.”

“Beautiful name.” he said kindly, and you blushed, which you would never admit. You were hoping this nice stranger only had friendly intentions; if not, you’d have to tell him to go away, and you were beginning to enjoy his sudden company. “Do you go to the college down the road?”

“No, I actually live in the next town over.” you nodded in the direction you had come from. “I just drove here to visit.”

“Alone?” you looked away in embarrassment, and he gestured to the bench. “Can I sit with you?” It was an odd request, and this was a total stranger, but he seemed nice enough. So you accepted, nodding your head. “So, what's so appealing about this little old town that you’d come all the way here?”

“My favorite bakery, and some much needed alone time.” you admitted, and he raised a brow. “I don’t get much time to myself these days.”

“That’s unfortunate. I have the opposite problem.” he said jokingly, and you opened your box of pastries, removing another croissant.

“Well, you have a new friend now.” you handed it to him, and he looked at the offer in surprise, before accepting it with a wide smile.

“Thanks, y/n. I could use a friend right now.” You smiled in response.

It was shocking how easy it was to get along with Sunghoon. Most of the time, you were horribly averse to meeting strangers; you didn’t know how to act, what to say, what to do. But speaking with him was smooth, it felt as if you’d known each other for years. It was almost concerning how familiar he seemed.

At the end of your conversation, when your phone started flooding with texts from Jake, you took your leave. You offered your number to continue talking, but he told you with regret that he didn’t own a phone, a rare and oddly endearing quality. You accepted, standing to walk away.

“Y/n!” he called after you, just as you were about to leave. You turned around, and he waved at you with a smile, his dark hair blowing in the cold wind. “See you around, okay?” You smiled back, waving.

You didn’t know if you’d ever see this familiar stranger again, but you couldn’t help but hope you did. You had never felt a friendship bloom that quickly, and you didn’t want to let go of it. But you would have to leave it up to fate, hoping you would see Sunghoon again soon, wherever or whenever that may be.

You walked away in a significantly better mood, your box of pastries in your hand. As you got into your car, you noticed the ajar lid, reaching to close it, when your brows furrowed. You opened it, noticing that not a single croissant was missing. Not even the one you offered to him, the one you watched him eat as you chatted.

You blew it off, shutting the lid firmly and turning on your stereo, blasting Amy Winehouse as you drove home to your boyfriend.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Jake was taking you on a date. Between your busy schedules and booming social lives, it was infrequent that you had time for an actual date. Most of the time, your nights would end in cuddling sessions at your shared house, watching a movie or playing your favorite board games. But today, he had a late lunch reservation for your favorite fancy restaurant, and he insisted that you both dress up in your nicest clothes. You wondered if you had forgotten about an anniversary or event, but he assured you he just wanted to celebrate your relationship.

Sometimes, you wondered how you could’ve gotten this lucky.

You put on Jake’s favorite dress of yours, a red silk dress that reached just below your knees. You hadn’t found an event that suited it in a while, and you were excited to bring it out of retirement.

“You look beautiful.” Jake said, holding your hand as you walked through the streets together. You garnered a lot of attention, a couple as beautiful as you were. Passersby stared, whispering with envy at your youth and glamor.

“You’re being so sweet today.” you giggled, your fingers clutching a single red rose that Jake had brough you, one that matched your dress perfectly.

“We don’t go on fancy dates often.” He kissed your knuckles. “I wanted to make today special.” Your heart filled up with fire as you smiled at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Your lipstick lingered there, and you considered wiping it off for a moment, before deciding not to. You thought it suited him.

You were actually happy. Finding joy in relationships had always been hard for you; your brain decided to shut them down somehow. Whether going ghost, shutting down, even firing off a quick apathetic text, you found a way to escape your happiness. You weren’t sure why. But you were finally ready to retire from being a heartbreaker; Jake was really the only one you needed.

From behind your boyfriend, you caught a flash of something familiar. The scent of lilies, a grey sweater, silky black hair.

You craned your neck to get a better look, Jake watching you in confusion as you waited for him to turn towards you. He glanced at something, his face turning just a couple of inches, and it was indeed Sunghoon. His sharp nose, wide eyes, you’d recognize that face anywhere, it was the one you were hoping to see for days on end.

Jake followed your gaze, turning back to you in puzzlement.

“What are you looking at?” Upon his words, you shook yourself out of your trance, shaking your head with a smile.

“Oh, I just thought I saw someone I knew.” Jake nodded in relief, his grip on your hand growing a bit tighter as you continued to walk, Sunghoon left behind as the two of you fled the scene.

You wanted to reconnect with Sunghoon, but Jake was here, and he was more important to you. For now, you’d just have to hope that you’d see him again, in another time, another place.

As you walked away, Sunghoon turned around, his eyes following as you and Jake walked down the street, the red silk of your dress flashing under the afternoon sun.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Jake was paying the bill for your meal. By now, the sun was beginning to set, fading slowly behind the horizon as the sky grew pink and orange. You had stepped out of the restaurant for a smoke break, waiting for him as you lit a burning cigarette. The flame of your lighter danced in the wind, swaying side to side before you put it out. Jake was trying to convince you to quit smoking, but old habits die hard, and you were craving a moment of peace.

Your eyes landed on the sidewalk, watching the fall wind sweep golden leaves across the pavement as you took another drag.

“You’re a smoker?” You startled at the sound of a sudden voice, but that surprise melted into delight when you saw who spoke to you.

“Oh, Sunghoon! I didn’t think I’d see you again.” He shrugged in response, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

“Must be my lucky day.” he replied, a smile on his face, one that you mirrored. You reached down to put out your cigarette, but he waved for you to stop. “No need to stop. I don’t mind.”

“Are you a smoker?” you asked, bringing it to your lips for another drag, and he watched you do so, seeming indifferent to your question.

“Not quite. But I don’t mind if you do it in front of me.”

“Most people hate it.” you chuckled, finishing your cigarette and putting it out on the sole of your heeled shoes. “I suppose the smell is a bit off putting.”

“I disgaree. I like the smell of smoke. It’s relaxing.” Sunghoon shrugged, and a smile grew on your face as you crossed your arms.

“I agree.” You found that it was, yet again, incredibly easy to talk to him. You’d only met twice, but you and Sunghoon already had a lot in common. Your taste in music, pastries, and your partiality to cigarette smoke were only a few of your many interests you’d discussed that seemed strikingly similar.

“So, what are you dressed up for?” he asked, and you were reluctant to answer. “Seems like a special occasion.”

“I suppose it is.” you said mysteriously, and he smiled. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw Jake’s dusty blond hair through the glass window as he collected his coat from the back of his chair. “I gotta go. But it was nice talking to you, again.” Both of you chuckled at that, and he stepped back to allow you room as you walked back to the door of the restaraunt.

“See you around.” he said, reminiscent of the first time you met, a grin on his face that almost looked childlike with eagerness. You smiled.

“See you around.”

And for the second time, you prayed that you would see your new friend again.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

After your recent encounter, you began seeing Sunghoon everywhere. In an empty aisle at the grocery store, the street behind your college, even in the area near where you lived. At first you considered that he might be following you, your meetings were so random and frequent, but he confessed at random that he didn’t live in the next town over after all. He lived in your town, not disclosing where, but telling you he was seemingly very close.

You began to enjoy your interactions with him more and more, your friendship growing stronger every day. You told him your genuine thoughts, and he gave you genuine advice. You didn’t often feel comfortable sharing things about yourself with people, but he weaseled his way into your mind almost concerningly easily. Other than Jake, he was the only person you felt like you could truly be yourself around. It was unheard of for you, knowing someone for only a month and feeling this comfortable around it. But you quickly transformed from strangers to the closest of friends.

Today was one of the lazy days where the two of you would lounge on the grass on your front lawn, sipping on coffee to warm yourselves in the cold. Well, you did; Sunghoon wasn’t fond of coffee. You had never invited him inside your house, it seemed too intimate of a line to cross while you had a boyfriend, who wasn’t home at the moment.

A boyfriend you still hadn’t told him about. But he hadn’t asked, so you assumed it wouldn’t be a problem.

“Are you worrying about something?” Sunghoon asked, laying on his back in the dewy grass. You were reading a book beside him while he stared at the gray sky.

“How did you know?” you asked, bemused, and he chuckled.

“I know everything going on in your head.” You nudged him in the shoulder, and he rolled over playfully, turning to his stomach.

“Maybe.” you replied vaguely, and he sat up on his elbows.

“What are you worrying about?” You didn’t respond.

You wanted to tell him about Jake, you really did. It’s not like you were embarrassed, or you wanted to hide him. You loved Jake, you’d be proud to tell anyone that. But you had this creeping feeling that it would affect your friendship, that Sunghoon wouldn’t be fond of knowing about him. Not in a romantic sense, no, you knew Sunghoon had no feelings for you, just as you had none for him. It was just a sinking dread.

“It doesn’t matter.” he said after a minute, rolling back onto his back, looking up at the sky as the clouds moved through the mist. “I bet I already know.”

“And why would you know?” you asked, your voice amused as you turned the page of your book. He grinned, but you didn’t see it.

“I told you. I know everything going on in your head.”

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

You were acting differently, and Jake could tell from a mile away.

He knew you, and he knew your heart. He could tell when something was bothering you, when you were unusually excited, he detected every minor shift of emotion. But lately, he couldn’t put his finger on what was happening.

You were spending less time with him. You used to be one of those inseparable couples that spent all their time together, but now you were ditching him for study sessions, meetings with friends, excessive alone time. You barely shared things with him anymore; it was like your emotions were all dried up by the time you got home. You were affectionate, but it seemed thoughtless. Jake didn’t want to pry into your business, but he knew he had to find out the cause of your sudden change.

Because not only did Jake know when your emotions changed, he also knew when you were lying to him.

You had just left for a day to yourself, and Jake grabbed his keys from the coffee table, running to his car once he knew you had left for certain. He didn’t want to follow you, that was for certain, but he was terrified that the secret you were keeping from him was big. Maybe as big as infidelity.

His old car crept around the corner, slowly following you from the back of the empty street as you walked. Your headphones were in, and he prayed you wouldn’t turn back and recognize his car. The pit in his stomach grew enormously when you turned the corner, heading towards the busier streets. He followed.

Jake parked, watching with suspicion as you walked into a busy coffee shop. He leaned over the wheel from across the street, squinting his eyes to make you out from the crowd as you sat down at a small table, your coffee table.

He stayed there for nearly an hour, just watching. Waiting for someone to come meet you, a man, as he feared. But nobody came, just you alone at that small table, sipping your coffee.

He sighed, turning his car back on, a flood of relief and guilt consuming him as he pulled out of his spot, heading back home. Maybe you weren’t cheating, maybe you weren’t lying to him. He drove back home, his knuckles blanching as he gripped the wheel tightly, turning back onto your street.

But despite his relief, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

It was day 365 of knowing Park Sunghoon. The year had gone by in a flash, but it seemed almost too short. To you, it felt like you had known Sunghoon your entire life.

You spent a lot of time together. Attempting to fit him and Jake into your schedule proportionately had proven to be hard, but Sunghoon always managed to show up when you least expected it, yet exactly when you were thinking about him. Sometimes you wondered if he could read your mind, he knew you so well.

365 days had passed, and he began feeling more like your best friend with every day.

Today, you were at the park you first met at. Coincidentally, you had happened to be craving your favorite croissants, and Sunghoon, who conveniently showed up to your dorm just beforehand, had come with you. Now, you were sitting on a park bench, croissants in hand, eating and chatting as the sun began to set.

Dozens of people walked by, but they didn’t seem to pay any attention to either of you. As you watched a pair of twenty-something girls walk past, you wondered why girls never noticed your exceptionally handsome best friend. Maybe getting a girlfriend would be good for him. You wanted him to experience the same happiness that you had with Jake, who you were realizing you hadn’t seen in a while.

“Why don’t girls ever notice you?” you said without thinking, and Sunghoon snorted, setting down his croissant.

“Gee, thanks.”

“That’s not how I meant it.” you said defensively, and he smiled in amusement. “I mean, you’re tall, handsome, sweet. Girls should be all over you.”

“Well, you’re not.”

“That’s different.” you said cynically. “I’m your best friend.” He looked at you seriously, and you shrugged. “What?”

“Nobody knows I exist except for you.” You met his serious gaze, before laughing, and he smiled in response.

“You’re so weird.”

“I’m totally serious. Nobody notices me but you.” It was a strange thing to hear, but it was seemingly true. When you were with Sunghoon, nobody really seemed to notice him, to even see him. He was enormously skilled at fading into the background, going unnoticed by passersby. As he had told you, you were the only friend he had, which only made him more endearing in your mind. You had always had issues making friends, and with your main company being your outgoing boyfriend, it was nice to know someone who went through the same struggle.

Sunghoon was Jake’s complete opposite; he was much more like you. His dark hair contrasted Jake’s dusty blond. He was calm and quiet with a strange sense of humor, not constantly joyous and amused like Jake. In moments when Jake would’ve laughed, he frowned. When Jake would’ve frowned, he laughed.

“And why is that?” you finally replied, and he smiled mysteriously.

“That’s for you to find out.” You snorted, shouldering your bag as you got to your feet, brushing off your pants. “Going somewhere?”

“Yeah, I should start heading home.” you said, checking the time on your watch and disappointed to see it was 7:45. You had plans with Jake at 7:30, and he wasn’t going to be pleased if you were any later than you already were. “Do you need a ride?” Sunghoon shook his head, leaning back against the bench as he looked up at you.

“No. I’ll make my way home.” You cocked your head at him, chuckling as you turned around, waving him goodbye.

“Suit yourself.” you said, and he waved at you as you walked down the street towards your parked car, a few blocks away, eager to get home to Jake before you miss more of your quality time. As you walked, you turned suddenly, gazing down the street at the park bench you had been just a moment before.

Sunghoon was gone.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

“You’re late.” Jake grumbled as you met him outside your home, a sheepish grin on your face. His hands were on his hips, but his disgruntled attitude faded when you pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, and he rested his hands on your waist. “What took you so long.”

“I got caught up with a friend. I hope I’m not too late.” you said, and he smiled, taking your hand as he led you down the driveway onto the sidewalk.

“Better late than never. Ready to go?” you nodded, and you began to walk, heading towards your favorite diner. You both had cars, but you preferred to walk. It allowed for more talking, more eye contact, more intimacy. It felt more real.

“You look really handsome today.” you said, pressing a hand against Jake’s cheek as he immediately grew warm at your compliment. Two years after you’d started dating, and sometimes you still made him feel like a schoolboy with a crush. He smiled with lovesickness.

“Mm, really?”

“Really.” you said, and he pressed a kiss to your lips, your hands swinging together in unison as you held them all the way to the middle of town.

You knew you loved each other, more than anything in the world. And virtually nothing could make you doubt that, or doubt each other. But what you didn’t know was that someone was watching you.

Sunghoon stared unrelentingly as you and Jake walked together. He walked twenty paces behind or so, his footsteps silent, so soft that not even grass bent upon him stepping on it. He watched as you talked, laughed, kissed, reveled passionately in each other's love. It was enviable, he thought.

As you shifted onto busier streets, he followed. Not a single passerby or stranger turned to look at him, nobody noticed as he weaved intricately through the busy crowds, following you and Jake who stumbled through them clumsily. He went completely undetected by everyone, even by you and your boyfriend. He was right when he said nobody noticed him but you; outside of you, his existence meant absolutely nothing.

He watched from outside the diner as you and Jake sat by the windows, sharing a milkshake with two straws like the cliche you were. You assumed Sunghoon didn’t know about your boyfriend; in fact, you’d been purposefully keeping it from him. But of course he knew about your boyfriend, as well as his name, as well as everything else there was to know about him. Sunghoon knew everything about you, and that even included your cheesy, hopelessly romantic boyfriend. As you laughed at Jake’s milk mustache, you looked happier than you’d ever been. Sunghoon frowned.

He knew he had to shut down that happiness somehow, he just wasn’t sure how to. Yet.

He eventually grew tired of seeing you smiling at your boyfriend, sharing meals and stories as the two of you laughed. It began to rain, but the falling droplets never touched his head, and he turned around to walk back home, to wait for you.

To wait for the next time you called for him.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Burn.

Burn.

Burn.

Let it all burn.

You awoke with a start, sweat matting your hair to your forehead. You sat up in bed, wiping the sweat off your face, looking beside you, flooded with relief when Jake was sleeping beside you peacefully.

You were having a nightmare. Your house was on fire and it was raging, the flames seemingly reaching the heavens as it slowly burned to a crisp. The fire was pulling you in, and for a moment you almost walked inside the burning building, until you heard Jake screaming. You snapped out of whatever trance you were in, running to the front of the house where the sound was coming from. In your front yard, Jake was bleeding, pools of blood surrounding him as he went still. And standing above him was Sunghoon, a bloody smile on his face as he slowly turned to you.

The image of his evil expression was burned into your memory, and you shook your head, carding a hand through your hair as you checked the time on the clock. It was 3:00 in the morning, but you knew you couldn’t go back to bed.

You crept out of bed as quietly as you could, careful not to wake your sleeping boyfriend as you pulled a sweater over your pajamas, walking down the stairs as they creaked, the sounds muffled underneath your slippers.

The cold morning breeze bit at you as you stepped out the front door, careful to lock it behind you. You were hoping a walk and a cigarette would help to clear your mind and calm you down.

You weren’t the type to be freaked out by nightmares, but this one felt hauntingly real. You could feel the warmth of the fire as your house went up in flames, the pure fear as Jake’s screams rang through the empty night. You tried to ignore it, lighting a cigarette and propping it in the corner of your mouth as you wandered the streets.

In your mindless wandering, you found yourself at a grassy park, ten or so streets down from your house. Nobody was here at this hour, and you walked through the trees and playgrounds until you reached a grassy hill that contained a familiar face.

You raised a brow in surprise as you watched Sunghoon sitting at the top of the hill, his back resting against a tree as he read a book, flipping the pages casually.

“What are you doing here? It’s 3 am.” you called to him, taking a drag when he turned to look at you and smiled.

“I don’t sleep.” he replied, his attention shifting back to his book. You climbed the hill slowly, your cigarette propped in your mouth as your slippers grew stained with the green dewy grass.

“What are you, a vampire?” you joked, sitting down beside him when you reached the top. You were hesitant to talk to him after your dream, but you did regardless, his hand reaching out to take a hit from your cigarette, his smile just as vivid as it was in your nightmare. You tried to brush it off. It was just a dream, after all.

“Not a vampire, no.”

“What are you reading?” you asked, and he shut the book, showing you the cover.

“One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.” he replied, and you nodded at him, impressed as you took your cigarette back from his hands.

“Ken Kesey. Nice.” He shrugged.

“It’s interesting. The main character hallucinates all kinds of shit.” You snort.

“I’ve read it.” He smiled, tucking the book away behind him. That smile, which had once seemed so pure, seemed malicious through the lens of your dream.

“I know.” You both grow silent, the sound of burning ash and your breathing being the only sounds in the quiet morning. The two of you watched the grass sway in the wind, completely undisturbed by the presence of other people.

“We run into each other a lot.” you said finally, Sunghoon turning to look at you. You were pensive, your cigarette burning out in your hand until the ash reached your fingers, and you crumbled it in your hand. “Do you sometimes wonder if we can read each other’s minds?” Sunghoon leaned back, closing his eyes against the breeze.

“I’ve never wondered that. I’ve always known it.” You looked at him, your brows drawn as you nudged him with your elbow, him laughing in response.

“You’re pretty strange, you know.”

“You’re pretty strange too. That’s why we like each other.” You couldn’t argue with that, so you didn’t. You just leaned back against the trunk of the tree, your shoulders touching as you and Sunghoon sat in silence, watching the sun slowly rise in the horizon.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Jake was saying something to you, but you weren’t listening. Lately, you’d been having a hard time focusing on just about anything.

Your nightmare was persisting, coming back to haunt you every night. Ever since that first dream, your mind had been preoccupied with the image of that fire. The fear you felt in your dream crept up on you in your waking hours, the image of Sunghoon’s face burned into your eyes every time you closed them. And it certainly didn’t help that he’d been showing up more than usual, taking more of your time away from things that mattered, like the man in front of you.

You found that you were thinking about Sunghoon more than often. For the past year, he had been your best friend and nothing more, but now, you weren’t sure. His silky hair and mysterious smile kept you up at night, and the gleaming blood on his face as he smiled woke you up in the morning. There was something about him; you couldn’t explain it, but he drew you in just as strongly as that fire in your dream. And the guilt you felt for thinking about him so often was doing nothing to improve your mood, or your relationship.

“Y/n? Are you listening?” Jake asked frustratedly, snapping in your face. You came out of your trance, startling awake as you dropped the tea bag you were holding, the one that had been steeping in your tea for more than a couple minutes now. You threw it into the trash, your angry boyfriend following you as you sat down at the dining table. “I swear you don’t even listen to me anymore.”

“I’m trying to, Jake.” you said, running a hand through your hair. You didn’t even remember what you had been talking about, why he was mad at you in the first place.

“For the past week, you’ve barely spoken to me,” he said. Jake was rarely angry, almost never, but you could hear the resentment in his voice. “You don’t even look at him half the time when we’re together.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” You felt hazy.

“Where are you going at dawn every morning?” Your gaze snapped to him, and his eyes were filled with a flurry of emotion; hurt, anger, sadness. “Every morning, you wake up at 3:00 and leave. You think I haven’t noticed?”

“I’ve been having nightmares. They wake me up.” you dismissed him, taking a sip of your tea and finding it had grown cold during your argument.

“You’re not cheating on me?”

“God, no, Jake.” you said, rubbing your forehead in frustration. “I’m just…I’m just confused right now.”

“Then please, tell me what’s going on!” he said, gesticulating in annoyance. “You won’t even speak to me lately. We used to talk all the time.” You considered telling him about Sunghoon, but this was not the time, nor place. It would only make him angrier, and you hated fighting with Jake more than anything.

“I can’t have this conversation right now.”

“Well, when are we going to have it? I mean, do you even love me anymore? You’ve been avoiding me nonstop.”

The past you would’ve fled, would’ve told yourself that this wasn’t worth the conflict and decided to run. You were used to running, but you were tired of it. The new you loved Jake, and you would get through whatever was stopping your relationship, regardless of how hard it was. And you knew you were the one to blame.

“Of course I love you. I’m sorry.” you said, standing up and abandoning your tea on the table. “I’m just going through a weird spot right now, and it’s hard to explain.” You placed a hand on Jake’s face, and he immediately softened. “Soon, I’ll tell you everything. I promise. I’m just in my own head right now.” He put his hand over yours, smiling tightly but accepting what you said, despite how much it hurt his heart to see you struggle in silence.

“Okay. Okay, that’s fine.” He pressed a kiss onto your hand. “And next time you have nightmares, please, wake me up. I’m happy to keep you company in the morning when you can’t sleep.” You smiled, kissing his cheek as you released him, grabbing your mug of tea and dumping it in the sink.

“How did I get so lucky?” Jake grinned at that, walking with you to the kitchen just to hold your hand, walking you to the living room as the two of you cuddled up on the couch together.

You tried to put it out of your head, but something was off. That little, self-sabotaging part of your brain was screaming, begging to be released, and you knew that somehow, it would manifest itself eventually.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Burn.

Burn.

Let it all burn.

Flames were eating away at your bed, and you stood in the doorway as it burned. The fire consumed the walls, your house and all its belongings being consumed by golden flames licking the sky with their enormous size. You watched as your closet, then the bed sheets, then the clock on your nightstand table reading 3:00 am. The fire spread until your room was consumed whole. The house was burning down. And there was nothing you could do to stop it.

“Wake up!” a voice screamed, and you recognized it to be Jake’s through your trance. “Y/n, wake up!” You were confused, turning around to see him behind you, tugging at you, shaking your shoulders with vigor. There was desperation in his eyes, his eyebrows drawn as he shouted at you, desperately pulling, but you wouldn’t budge.

Shouldn’t he be dead by now? This wasn’t how the dream was supposed to go.

“Y/n, wake up!”

Something snapped, and suddenly you were awake, but the house kept burning. Wrathful fire ate away at the furniture and your bed, the walls beginning to collapse in on themself as the house moaned with the effort of keeping itself upright. The house shook, the walls caving in, Jake standing behind you in his pajamas, shocked awake, desperately trying to pull you away.

“Please, we have to get out! Now!”

“This isn’t how it’s supposed to go.” you murmured, still in a sleepy haze. “Am I dreaming?” But it didn’t seem like a dream, no, it was all too real. Your house was on fire, and you began to cry, tears streaming down your face as you stared at your burning bedroom, paralyzed with grief.

Jake pulled violently on your arm, leading you out of the bedroom and through the house. It was full of fire, your staircase burning the bottoms of your feet as you both ran to the front door, flames licking your skin until you finally made it outside.

“What just happened?” you asked, your voice trembling as you both watched your house burn down, the framework being the only thing left. The fire let out a roar, the roof creaking before it crashed in on itself, the walls crumpling to the floor. The flames ate at the grass, igniting your yard and everything around, the ravenous fire slowly spreading across the ground. Somehow, only your house was the one ignited. Nothing else. “How…how did this happen?”

“I don’t know.” Jake replied mournfully, and you began to cry, your shoulders shaking as sobs wracked through your body, and Jake held you close, tears running down his cheeks as well.

You both watched the house you had so dutifully loved, and the relationship you’d made inside of it, burn to the ground, turned to ash and dust. It was all lost. And you knew it had something to do with you, the dreams you’d been having.

Somehow, you had this creeping feeling that the man with the bloody smile, the man who haunted your dreams, was at fault.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

The police said the fire was likely due to a pilot light and an excess of gas, some logical, reasonable explanation, but you weren’t listening. Jake was nodding along to their long-winded speech, but you were staring off into the distance, eyes zoned out on the wall of the police station where you sat.

You felt Jake grasp your hand, his thumb rubbing circles on your skin, but you were too enraged to even feel it. Sunghoon was at fault for this. You knew it. Your brain had been warning you, sending you fire-filled nightmares until they finally became reality. It was his fault. It was his fault.

And you were going to find him.

“Smoke break.” you muttered when your boyfriend and the police looked at you questioning, standing up in the middle of their explanation with your fists tightly clenched. You strode out, Jake covering for you, telling the police you were a smoker, you were stressed, all the things they wanted to hear. Their voices went silent as the door closed behind you and you walked right out of the station, not sure where you were going but knowing you’d run into him somewhere. You always did.

“Are you looking for me?” Sunghoon said, and you shrieked at the sound of his voice, startled. You had walked nearly five streets away, to that empty park you had seen him in just a couple of days previously, and there he was, sitting against the same tree at the top of the hill. You slowly walked up to him.

“Sunghoon.” your voice trembled as you spoke, with anger or fear, you weren’t sure. “Was it your fault?” He cocked his head at you, shutting his book.

“Was what my fault?” You shook your head at him.

“You know what I’m talking about. You always know. So tell me, was the fire your fault?” For a minute he didn’t respond, until his lips spread into a crooked grin, and you felt a shiver of fright run down your spine. You had never been scared of Sunghoon, not since you met him that day on the street, but now you felt pure fear when you looked into his eyes. That haunting smile had come to life, from your dreams into your reality, and although there was no blood, you could feel it in the way he looked at you.

“You ruined everything.” you said quietly, your shoulders trembling. “My house is gone. Burned to the ground.”

“C’mon, don’t tell me you actually cared about that house.” He stood, and you backed away from him, stumbling down the hill as he pressed towards you. “Or is it Jake that you’re really worried about?”

“What?”

“Don’t play games. I know about your boyfriend, I’ve known since the day we met.” You never told him about Jake, you were certain you had never slipped up.

“Have you been following me?” you asked, confused and frightened, and he smiled again, that same bloody smile.

“I don’t need to. I told you, I know everything about you.”

“I’m done with this. You’re crazy.” you said with finality, dizzy with rage and fear as you turned and walked away from him, your slow pace turning into a run as you sought to be as far from him as possible.

“No, I’m not. You are.” he called after you, but you didn’t hear it, running against the wind as the sun just began to come up, peeking over the cloudy horizon.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

You didn’t see Sunghoon for a while after that. You and Jake rented a studio apartment at the edge of town, it being the only thing you could afford after you lost all the money that was tied up in the house. You were both depressed, but at least you were together.

Sunghoon’s actions weighed heavy on your mind. You didn’t tell Jake that he was the one to blame for the fire, you were afraid of how he would react. If you revealed you had been keeping Sunghoon a secret for this long, he might blame you for the house burning down, and where would you go from there? You had already lost your best friend, and you weren’t willing to lose your boyfriend too.

“There’s something you’re not telling me.” Jake said quietly. He was sitting on the couch, head in his hands, as he usually did when he had nothing to distract him. “You’re keeping something from me.” You didn’t respond, because you knew he was right. You were keeping something from him, something enormous, and it was eating away at you. “You won’t talk, you’re smoking more than usual, you’re withdrawn-”

“My house just burnt down, Jake.”

“It was my house too.” he said sharply, and you didn’t reply. You could feel a distance growing between you and Jake, getting wider with every day, and you didn’t know how to fix it. You were desperate to resolve this issue, but how could you tell him that you were to blame for the fire being lit?

“Tell me about your nightmares.”

“What?’ you said, your brows lifting in surprise. He looked up at you, his eyes pleading with you for any kind of response, something he could work with.

“You said you were having nightmares. Tell me about them.”

You didn’t want to, not at all, it would make you have to explain everything to him. But you owed him that, so you sat beside him. And you told him.

“Our house burnt down in your dream? Every night?” he asked, in shock that you could’ve predicted what happened. “And I died?”

You swallowed down your guilt. You kept out the part where Sunghoon was the one to kill him, just saying he had died somehow, but lying to him out loud felt much more horrible than just keeping things from him.

“Yeah. I don’t know why, it just happened.” You expected him to yell, to blame you, to say anything, but he didn’t. He just nodded, like he understood, and you heaved a breath of relief.

“Okay. Okay, I get it.” He abruptly stood, grabbing his keys, and you looked at him with confusion. “I’m going on a drive to clear my head. I’ll be back.”

As he said it, he walked out the door, and you prayed that he was right, that he really was going to come back.

After all the occasions of lying to him, it was Jake’s turn to lie to you. He attemped to keep the wheel steady as he searched for a psychologist, anyone who might be able to give him an answer about what was going on with you. He felt guilty, but that guilt began to slowly disappear as he pulled into the garage of a towering building, walking into the lobby and attempting to find someone who could help him. The secretary led him into a white room, a man sitting at a desk who smiled at him warmly, a kind gesture he was happy to receive.

“Jake? Sit down.” the man said, and Jake sat. “I’m Dr. Yang, but you can call me Jungwon if that makes you more comfortable.”

Jake nodded nervously, looking around the room, scared of the stale, white appearance. It was frightening, an unfamiliar territory that felt foreign to him. He felt like he was selling you out, like he was putting your fate into the hands of another person, but he couldn’t help it. He knew he had to do something.

“So,” Dr. Yang said, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his chair. Jake gulped with anticipation, a mix of fear and guilt running through his veins as the psychologist’s judging eyes landed on him, narrowed. “Tell me about your girlfriend.”

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

You were wandering around town, as you had often been doing. It’s not like you had anything better to do, with Jake busy and your mind distracting you from getting any work done. There was a flurry of thoughts running through your head, a synthetic blur of fire, blood, and everything you wanted to suppress. It was overwhelming you.

You were on an empty street. You found that lately you wanted to avoid running into other people. You didn’t want to hear their conversations, see their judging eyes, no, you wanted to be alone.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” Sunghoon said, and you nearly jumped in fright. His ability to seemingly come out of nowhere was jarring, and it was beginning to frighten you. Not only did he appear whenever you wanted to see him the least, he always knew exactly where you were. Every minute of the day, down to the exact location. How was that possible?

When you recognized him, you narrowed your eyes, turning away and walking as fast as you could. With long strides, he easily caught up to you.

“What? Are you ignoring me?

“I don’t want to see you ever again.” you spat back at him, and he seemed amused by your vitriolity, eyes crinkingly up into humorous crescents.

“Oh, don’t you get it?” he smiled, and you felt that same fear run up your spine, the fear you felt when you first confronted him about lighting the fire. With every day, he was becoming more like the man you saw in your dream and less like your best friend. “You can’t get rid of me.”

“Please, just go away.” you said, your angry voice tinged with desperation, pleading with him to leave you alone so you could return to the peaceful life you used to have, and for a moment, it looked like he almost pitied you.

“Why? Did I cause problems between you and Jake?” You whipped around, furious that he was still able to read your mind in moments like this.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

“So I was right. I am causing issues between the two of you.” he seemed happy at the prospect of his meddling, and that only made you more concerned, watching the way his smile grew. “Exactly as I expected.”

“Stay away from him.”

“I can’t guarantee that.” He was the exact vision you saw in your dream, smiling with malice and hatred like you had never seen in a human face. You feared for Jake’s life. If Sunghoon had managed to make your fiery nightmare come to life, who was to say he wouldn’t kill Jake as well? Maybe your mind was trying to warn you about him, to tell you what he was going to do next.

“Please, don’t hurt him.”

“Don’t worry. If he dies, it won’t be me that kills him.” You didn’t understand what he was saying and you didn’t want to, so you walked away, refusing to speak as tears began running down your face. Luckily, this time he didn’t follow. You turned to see him staring at you, that smile on his face.

Maybe you were to blame, for blindly trusting a stranger. Sunghoon had managed to worm his way into your brain. He knew you inside out; your behavior, your thoughts, he almost knew you better than you knew yourself. He was living inside your mind. He had infected every part of your life, even your dreams, and you were suddenly wishing that you had never let him sit down next to you on that bench a year ago.

When you looked back at him again, he was gone.

You ran back to your apartment as quickly as you could, praying that Jake was back from his drive. You were relieved to see him safe and sound, sitting on the couch. But something was off; he was staring at the wall, completely silent, his eyes glazed as he clutched a half-empty beer in his hand.

“Jake?” He turned to the sound of your voice. “Is everything alright?” He didn’t respond for a minute, like his brain was processing your question.

“I’m fine.” he said after a moment, turning back to the wall, staring at the peeling wallpaper with rigor. Unable to turn his attention to you.

That night, you went to bed with a heavy heart and a buzzing brain. You were grateful to see that Jake had climbed into bed next to you as usual, but you were much too scared to sleep, no, you were afraid to even close your eyes. You watched the new clock beside your bed as the hours flew by, and suddenly it was 2:30 am. You still hadn’t fallen asleep.

You buried yourself further under the covers, Jake’s light snoring comforting you as you tried desperately to get to sleep. But your mind was racing. It was a flurry of images, most of them Sunghoon. You rolled over towards your bedside table, reaching for the bottle of sleeping pills your boyfriend had bought you in hopes of easing your vivid nightmares. You popped one in your mouth, swallowing it dry before you closed your eyes, praying for the sweet feeling of sleep.

As you drifted off, you stared into the image of Sunghoon’s bloody face carved into the back of your eyelids.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

You awoke with a start. The house was completely silent, no evidence of anything that could’ve woken you from your sleep, but you were on high alert. Your heart raced as you looked around the room, falling on the empty space next to you in bed. You immediately sat up in bed, searching the room with your eyes.

“Jake?” you whispered, and heard no response. You slowly got up, your feet padding softly across the floor as you came around the bed. As you stepped forward, you felt your skin grow wet. When you looked down, you were horrified to see the source.

Blood. Red and thick streaks of it running across the floor, leading from your bed to the door to your bedroom, which was slightly ajar. The door you remembered firmly shutting before you went to sleep.

Your heart felt like it was burning in your chest, buzzing with fear as you followed the trail of blood, a sob escaping you when you saw it ran down the staircase, and you clapped a hand over your mouth.

“Jake?” you said again, calling out for him, your voice breaking as it rang empty in the night. He didn’t reply. You dialled 119 on your phone, your hands shaking as it rang. “Hello?”

“119, what’s your emergency?” a voice answered on the other side, and you trembled, slowly descending the blood soaked stairs.

“There’s blood all over my house. I…I think someone killed my boyfriend.” you said, your voice cracking as you broke into a sob, clapping a hand over your mouth to silence yourself. “Please, please hurry.” You followed the blood further, a horrible, debilitating sense of deja vu striking you as it led to the front yard. You prayed this wasn’t true, that it was just another cruel dream, but it felt as real as anything.

“We’re sending units to your location. Stay where you are, we’ll be there soon.” You wanted to listen, to follow instructions, but you dropped your phone, the call ending when you saw what was waiting for you in the front yard.

The closer you got, the more you could see that it was Jake, laying in the grass, his mouth and eyes open in a silent plea. His right fist was clenched shut, and he was covered in blood, and you abandoned all caution to run to him, collapsing onto the ground, blood wetting your dress and your hands as you cradled him in your arms.

This couldn’t be true. You’d had this dream over and over, night after night, but you never thought it would become your reality. You felt like your entire world was shattering. You had lost Jake, you had lost him permanently, and it was all your fault, for welcoming a stranger.

“I told you.” Sunghoon said, his voice quiet as he stood behind you, watching you hold Jake’s body as you sobbed. You could barely address him, too concerned with grief. “I told you he’d die.”

“This is all your fault.” you said, your voice shaking with fear, anger, grief, all the emotions you could imagine were running through you at one time. “I never should’ve befriended you.”

“Oh, you didn’t have a choice.” Sunghoon said, kneeling next to you, his hands resting on his knees. The sound of sirens began to ring through the air, blue and red light shining across the street as cop cars pulled up in front of your house. “We didn’t meet that day. I’ve always been with you.”

“What are you talking about?” you asked, but he didn’t respond.

He got to his feet, his eyes dark and filled with pity as police officers ran out of their cars and towards you, straight past Sunghoon. You pointed to him, eyes wild as they looked at you, then the direction of your finger.

“That’s him! He killed my boyfriend!”

“Ma’am, we’re going to need you to let go of the body.” They ignored you, prying Jake out of your hands. Sunghoon watched as they dragged you away from Jake, inspecting his body while you screamed at them, pleading with them to catch the killer, to arrest him for what he had done to your boyfriend. You still didn’t understand. It was almost pitiful.

You were still screaming and pleading when an officer approached you, a note in his hand, almost illegible through the sheen of blood that covered it.

“Are you y/n?” he asked, and you only cried harder, which seemed to confirm his question. He raised the note, displaying it to you, and you attempted to read it through your tears, your eyes going dry when you processed it.

Y/n killed me.

It was Jake’s handwriting, you knew it. After two years, you’d recognize his handwriting anywhere, the distinctive scribble, the way the letter y looped at the tail. Your heart felt like it would stop in your chest as the officer stared at you scrutinizingly.

“You’re under arrest.”

“What? No, you don’t understand.” you said desperately, struggling against the rough hands of the officer as he attempted to cuff you, wriggling desperately. “I didn’t kill him, Sunghoon did! He killed him!” you screamed, pointing at the dark haired man standing in the shadows, watching.

The more you looked at him, the more you realized that you didn’t know anything about him. Sunghoon always had the ability to read your mind, but you couldn’t name a single thing about him apart from what you had in common. Where did he live? What was his last name? What was his family like? Where did he go to school, where did he work? You couldn’t recall anything, and your eyes widened in terror as he stared at you from the sidewalk, casting no shadow on the pavement.

Then, he smiled, that bloody, horrible smile, the one that haunted you in every sleeping and waking moment.

“Sunghoon killed him!” you cried desperately, the officer staring in confusion at the empty space you were pointing to, the only thing in the silent night being the trees and bloody sidewalks. He turned back to you, and the next three words he spoke made you feel like you could die on the spot, you were so filled with dread and fear.

“Who is Sunghoon?”

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

back to the masterlist.

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

Warning: Major major one piece spoilers of wano and egghead!!!!!

Tw: death & blood

The idea of luffy’s vivre card flash-banging sabo in that pitch black bilge is making me laugh so much

Bonuses:

Full pic of that last page👇

Here’s the full pic of this since it being a gif absolutely tanked the quality of the image.

[bamsara]

some scenes in my head for my fic. emotional support lamb.